Street Commerce 101
by Gumi Reloaded
Summary: A physically wounded Kenshin and an emotionally wounded Megumi assist each other. Then, a well intentioned move ends in disaster.
1. Street Commerce 101

**Street Commerce 101**

**Date:**Monday, February 6, 2060

**Time:**Late Evening, the day after the Sunshine Café incident

**Place:** Lower District, New Meiji  
**  
Characters:** Megumi, Kenshin

**Megumi**

There was slush in her shoes.

With a sigh, Megumi looked down at the nearly dilapidated pumps she'd "borrowed" (long term, without permission, no return date in sight) from a less than observant owner of a forth rate clothing exchange store. They were ghastly things, two sizes too large and Megumi suspected that the original owner had been a sufferer of bunions by the lumps on the sides of the toe beds. She sighed again, bent down and gingerly pulled off the pumps that had seen better days, her cinnamon eyes clinically looking at the state of her toes. They were bright red, nearly purple. Megumi tilted her head, quickly calculating how much longer she had before her toes froze. Again.

Calculations complete, she quietly dropped the shoes, and walked forward barefoot. It was uncomfortable and would, as the evening progressed and the temperature continued to drop, become painful for a measure of time, but there would be no lasting damage. Hypothermic digits were better than walking around in ugly, lime green pumps and that was that. Megumi smirked and wearily slinked down an alley, where perhaps the streets were not as thick with the industrial grey sleet and sludge. Cold feet aside, she was tired and after three days without more than the occasional complimentary cup of coffee, she was shaking violently with hunger.

It didn't take long for Megumi to realize that other denizens of New Meiji's less than savory side had had similar ideas. Normally, the side streets of what she now knew were the outskirts of one of the larger pleasure districts would be empty, save for the occasional AMP'd out shell of an addict, alcoholic or speed chaser. Tonight, they alleys were crawling with men and woman whose appetites and desires were darker than the winter sky.

Head down, she tried to vanish into the background, pulling the also "borrowed" men's trench coat tightly around her body as she brushed past a crowd of rowdy men and brassy, hard eyed women who seemed hell bent on making a little extra money this evening. Meg glanced down a side alley as she ducked beneath a rusting metal stair well and was horrified to see a woman pressed up against a wall, dress up around her exposed hips as a man thrust into her. Occasionally the woman would moan, pause, and moan again as if she was reading some horrible script that only she could see. The man for his part was apparently inspired by the performance for with a groan and shudder and a sigh he was done and the business at hand was blatantly concluded. Dress went down, trousers went up, money was exchanged.

Wide eyed, Megumi looked away, her pale face flushing with embarrassment and shame, not because she'd never seen people having sex (she hadn't but that wasn't the point), but because she suspected that if she didn't find some sort of permanent situation, one where she could earn a living without garnering unwanted attention, she'd soon find herself in a similar situation. A familiar ache, one that had nothing to do with cold feet or an empty stomach caused her eyes to well up and she stumbled past the side alley, knowing that in all aspects that mattered, she'd already prostituted herself, to men far more despicable than anyone she was likely to encounter in this alley.

Evening turned to night and as the temperatures began to plummet and the slush became crusted, then slick with ice, Megumi continued to wander, turning left, then right until she was hopelessly lost, and desperately cold. Pulling her coat tight around her she came to a dingy intersection of alleyways and looked right then left, before stumbling forward.

**Kenshin**

It was too hot. Too hot and too cold at the same time. His head throbbed. His body was hot and aching everywhere, like something was sawing at his shoulder. Pressing, piercing. Everything swirled and buzzed and he kept seeing people walk by. Ghostly feet. Salamander. The Cop. Sometimes in shoes. Sometimes in zori. Shishou touched his shoulder and Kenshin turned and sat up to the broth of soup that was being offered, only there was no soup there. No Shishou either. And he hadn't sat up. Even moved. His eyes were still closed. It was cold. Too cold. Too hot.

A shot and a woman's scream and Kenshin's eyes flew open.

Jin'e! he screamed, but the name fluttered on his lips and in a moment it was gone. A wordless couple of syllables.

It was cold. Why was it so cold?

Door was open. Kenshin could see the slit of night through the crack in the door. He should go open and get it... No...over and close it.

"Yeah, you do that, buddy. Get your lazy butt out of bed and help me win at this game."

"Hiten doesn't work that way, Sano," Kenshin said. Or thought he said. Or maybe didn't say. Sano just smirked at him except he was dreaming and the door was still open. His lips were cracked. His throat was dry.

Kenshin pushed himself up, bright pain flaring through him. Chills ran in waves, crisscrossing, numbing his body. Slowly. Slowly. He made his shuffling way to the door which just got further and further. Was he actually moving? He couldn't tell.

**Several hours after Meg goes wandering down the alley...Sometime after midnight:**

A woman had died earlier in the evening, frozen to death in an abandoned doorway. The bum moved closer, his filthy fingers itching to take the over-sized coat that half covered the woman's slender frame. Coats were hard to come by and on a freezing night like this, well…the dignity of the dead could be damned. As he moved closer, he saw that the woman had bare feet and the tips of some toes were waxy and white, while others had already started turning black at the tips. Others, strangely enough seemed healthy and pink, as if they'd been spared the ravages of the cold.

She'd been beautiful in life, he man supposed as he casually pulled the coat off the woman. Black hair, pretty features, hell, he was willing to make a bet that the broad had all her teeth. A more poetic soul might have wondered how such a young woman had come to such a sad end, but the man had far more practical considerations to ponder. Reaching out, the vagrant gave the coat a final yank and it slipped off the woman, revealing the rest of her frozen form.

She was dressed strangely for this part of the city, sporting light blue medical scrubs that had seen much better days. Badly stained and torn in several places, top and bottom were falling apart and blood stains, laundered certainly but visible nevertheless, covered the garment, suggesting that the dead woman had been exposed or participated in acts of serious violence.

A light spot on her wrist indicated that she'd once worn a watch, but it, like her shoes were missing. Glancing down at the bare feet, the bum was startled to see that now only one of the woman's toes was black, two were waxy and the rest looked as if they'd never been exposed to anything but warmth and comfort.

The bum backed up, when Megumi groaned, then struggled to her feet, clutching at his ill-gotten gains, then fled, perhaps pursued by something more than a fleeting guilty conscience. Shuffling down from the door step, Megumi stumbled down the alley, not even bothering to try and chase the thief, despite knowing that even as hungry and weary as she was, catching him would not be an issue.

Finding a place to get a good night's sleep…and get something to eat…now that was another matter entirely. Nearly ready to weep with sheer exhaustion, putting one healing foot in front of another Megumi wandered down the alley, stumbling on patches of ice until she happened to stumble, quite literally on a back door that was open.

She paused, gnawing uncertainly on her lower lip as she considered what might be behind this door and what she still might encounter outside. It was an easy enough decision and with a little push, she was inside the building. The main floor was filthy and Megumi gingerly had to step over spent epi pens, broken needles and mostly empty bottles of liquor as she wandered about the main floor, looking for safe place to fall back asleep. She found stairs going down into a basement, and hoping against hope for something better and safer than the main floor, she cautiously crept downward.

There was a door open in the basement. Cautiously, Megumi crept toward it, like a moth towards a flame. When she came to the door that was ajar she cautiously peered inside…and then gasped as looked into a pair of haunted, yet undeniably familiar violet eyes.

**Kenshin**

The door was pushed open before he could push it closed. Kenshin blinked and lowered his hand. He stared at her. Realized he was staring at her. Then wondered if she was a delusion. Whatever the case, she was familiar, she was. And obviously a doctor (and a good one) and she was obviously cold and hungry and cold air came in around her. He wrapped his arms around himself and his shoulder throbbed painfully with the movement. Pulsing.

"Please, come in, sensei," he said, though the words sounded slurred to him. Everything was too clear. He could see shapes in the darkness behind her. He shook his head and winced.

"Help yourself to food or whatever you need. I have too much, I do."

He made his way to the futon and moved to sit, carefully, almost dizzy with the movement. His shoulder continued to ache. Something grinding against it. Aah, he wanted to sleep; he wanted to be warm under the comforter. But...but a guest was here. So instead he leaned on his side and reached over with his good arm to turn on the space heater, wincing as fire lanced through his shoulder.

**Megumi**

Megumi tried not to gawk at the slender man as he gingerly made his way to a dingy futon and sat, then leaned over and turned on a space heater. He was hurt, that much was obvious, and in no small degree of pain. She couldn't see any sign of injury, there were no obvious wounds, no recently healed scars that could offer up an explanation as to the source of his suffering.

Had this encounter been a few years before, when she had been much less wise to the way this New Meiji Era worked, Meguimi would have trotted right over to the obviously unwell man and offered assistance without so much as a second thought. Three years locked up in a military lab and three weeks as a "guest" of the syndicate had irrevocably darkened her outlook on life and she hesitated, fearful that this man, like every other human being (save one) would want and expect things from her that she had no desire to give up.

Afraid, yet aware that this was the best offer that she'd had all evening, she considered the offer. Locking her jaw, so her teeth wouldn't chatter, Megumi paused at the threshold of the doorway, then after glancing at the half reclined man, whose name she could almost, but not quite recall, she risked a glance inside the storage unit masquerading as living quarters. When she caught sight of a scabbard, she took a nervous step back towards the unlit hallway, half inclined to retreat back to the alleyways before she remembered that for this man, a sword (one that was fashioned to save lives rather than take them) was the norm and not cause for alarm.

She earnestly looked at him again, peering carefully at his eyes, his hair, the slender yet muscular form, wondering at the hazy, yet undeniable stirrings of memory that this man was evoking in her mind and felt herself taking a step forward, then another as she felt heat, wonderful, beautiful radiant head coming from the space heater. When she crossed the threshold, she paused awkwardly and not knowing what else to do with her dirty bare feet (her toes were no longer frozen) she bent and wiped the worst of the mud, ice and debris with her cold fingers, then wiped her hands on the hem of her blood stained scrubs before she summoned up what little reservoir of courage she'd been able to squirrel away for herself, and stepped inside, carefully closing the door behind her.

"That is a very kind offer," Megumi's low voice echoed slightly in the nearly empty storage room.

Cautiously, she crept towards the space heater, her icy limbs drinking in the heat. It had been weeks since she'd been warm and what felt like a lifetime since she'd felt safe. Kneeling silently, she held her arms out towards the heater, closing her eyes for a second as stiff, limbs made clumsy and shaky with cold warmed up fractionally.

Her stomach made a noise that sounded like a grumble and a groan. The bridge of her nose and her hollowed cheeks went pink with embarrassment and pressing an unsteady hand on her very empty stomach, she gave her unnamed host, a little sheepish smile, "and rather apropos, I fear."

Megumi paused, considering the half slurred language, the expression of pain the man had made and now, as she was kneeling closer, the sure signs of fever on his face, his mouth and in his eyes, a return offer that she hoped was equally generous. Still a stranger to so many aspects of life outside of a medical laboratory, she had been force to learn very quickly since escaping from the syndicate that in order to survive, the concept of quid pro quo had to be adhered to.

"You are unwell and I would, in exchange for some food and a safe place to spend the evening, like to see if I can get you feeling a bit better."

Mindful of the fact that she was dirty, barefoot and wearing torn bloodstained scrubs and nothing underneath them, Megumi felt her cheeks redden, but continued to talk, with a hair flip and what she hoped was a confident, professional smile. "I know that I may not look it, but I am a doctor, and a good one. " At this point, she wasn't quite sure what she was supposed to do, so she extended her hand outward, as if to shake on the deal. "Do you find this a fair exchange?"

**Kenshin**

She came forward and then stepped back. He wondered what she had looked at and saw Kitetsu half out of the bag. He faintly remembered taking it out but thought he had dreamed it. Must not have. It was safer out, any way, but not when it frightened women who desperately needed to come out of the cold. Close to death, she was. Kenshin laid back instead, wincing at the pressure on his shoulder, watching the room spin. He could see the pale flesh of his own stomach and she could easily cross the room and cut it open- but her ki held the sharp edge of fear, even through the blistering pain in his head he could feel it, taste it metallic on the edge of his tongue.

He watched her from the corner of his eye as she shut the door and must have blinked or slept because she was immediately by the space heater, warming her thin hands. All of her was white and pink. Halfway between living and dead. She was running from something, she was. Otherwise why would she be in scrubs? Had...had the Gatling gun man found her? That memory... He closed his eyes and tried to search for it. What had...what had it been about? He could just see it. Smell blood. Outrage. See the threads of her hair as she ran. But she'd...been happy. Why...why was that?

She was speaking. Kenshin opened his eyes again and focused on her words. Missing the meaning at first, but understanding gradually. He smiled at the hair flip, remembering her to...tormenting who? It didn't matter. She extended her hand, pale and bony and he took it with his right, finding her palm cold and covering the back of her hand with his left.

"How about instead you take care of yourself, Miss? In exchange for the food." He looked into her eyes. "You'll die if you keep at this pace, you will, and that will be quite a waste. Good people are hard to find these days."

**Megumi**

Megumi looked down at the man's hand atop hers. His hand was hot, dangerously feverish and unbearably kind, despite the hard calluses that she could feel on his fingers and palm. "You've obviously not read the manual 'What to Do When Negotiating for Essential Life Services' have you?" she tried to tease, but her voice broke along with her ability to keep her eyes dry. Unprepared to deal with a genuinely humane response, unsure what could prompt a man to offer so much, for so little, Megumi hazarded a glance back to his face, her expression a study in anguish.

(Would that I could expire from something as wonderfully simple as starvation) She thought wretchedly, (It would make things so much easier…) She'd already tried this avenue of atonement, but to no avail. Her body could wither and be ravaged, but would, like a stupid annual blossom that didn't know when to quit, kept regenerating, her cells engaging in utterly unnatural eukaryotic cycle that took milliseconds rather than minutes, forcing her to exist in a painful, perpetual existence that was not of her own making.

"I'll chalk up your less than mercenary offer, and unfortunately inaccurate assessment of my health and ethos to a raging fever and postpone further negotiations, until you're not running a temperature in the hundreds," Megumi decided as she gently ran the side of her thumb across the man's hand and tried to estimate how high his fever was and what in the world might be causing it.

She sighed and gave his hand a little squeeze, "For now, let us agree that I need to eat and you need to rest," Megumi offered, her cheeks wet, as she motioned for him to lay down in a manner that would be comfortable. Her expression changed a little becoming less sorrowful and more concerned as she continued to look at him.

"I will prepare a meal, one that I hope you will also partake of…while you tell me why I can see all the signs of a serious infection on you, but no hint of the source wound or injury."

She paused then, not wanting to make the man feel uncomfortable, "I am no stranger to violence, Sir, and ask this not to judge…never that…but to understand so I can help you get well." Despite her tears, she gave him a half sly, half shy smile. "You're right, you know. Good people…kind people… are very hard to come by and I would rather not have one expire due to fever and infection in a storage room if I can help myself."

**Kenshin**

"Life is so short, who has time to read?" Kenshin said with a small laugh which he immediately regretted. He'd do it again, though, if it made her smile and kept that lost broken look from her face. But nothing could erase that. It would just burrow in her heart, eat away at her until she was nothing but an empty shell, ragged with desperation.

The words 'unfortunate assessment' snagged him, turned over in his head even as she kept speaking, words too complicated for him to understand, patterns to slippery to grasp. She was ready to die. She wanted to die. What had she done? What was she running from? What could she do? He glanced at the brown stains on her scrubs, blood. Hers or someone elses? What had she been forced to do in being there? In trying to escape? At least she wasn't alone this time, locked away, making him sharp with worry, pulling his attention from...from who? Someone familair. Someone...just as broken...

No. Kenshin blinked away the cobwebbed memory and focused on her words before he could be pulled back into that dark place. Infection she said. But no sign of a wound. Sharp eyes, she had, to guess that. She was no stranger to violence but no one was in New Meiji. Not the one who used the drugs, and not the one that made them.

Could he lie? No. She would find out. She would know better. She would wonder why he had and what else he was hiding. He ruined too many lives as it was without having to push her even further into the cold. He let go of her hand in case it would disgust her. (and he wouldn't blame her if it did)

"I am a hitokiri," he said, extending his arm so she could see the two faint red marks where he had taken a hit. "I was shot in the shoulder and was too careless with my energy so the skin grew back before I could take the bullet out."

"But you don't have to feel obligated to help me," he said in a gentler voice, letting his arm fall back on the futon. It was too much to lift it any more. "You can take the food you need and clothes too, if they will fit. There are too many killers in New Meiji and not enough doctors so you should take care of yourself."

**Megumi**

"A Hitokiri?" Megumi whispered, shocked to even hear the word whispered on the feverish lips of this man, to say nothing of him actually identifying himself as a subject in the aborted top secret project.

While she did not know all the details about the government's clandestine efforts to create a new generation of super soldiers, she knew enough to know that if the man was being sincere in what was tantamount to a damning confession that she had stumbled into a nightmare, but not that was one of this poor man's making.

Her father, a government man through and through, had been a chief research scientist on the project and unlike most of this peers who disavowed any knowledge or participation in what was considered by many a scientific travesty of the worst kind, had commented on more than one occasion that great progress only came from great risk and that the knowledge gained as a result of that experiment was worth any collateral damage that may have resulted.

(And if this man is what…is who he claims to be, then I am kneeling beside the collateral damage)

Leaning over, she looked closely at the man's pale, proffered arm, seeing faint needle marks. Normal AMP users were easy to identify because the high toxicity levels of the drugs caused the injection sites to fester and with frequent usage, the skin to become necrotic. The man's skin (for she would not, could not fairly refer to him by that other name) was smooth, save for two injection points which appeared to be slowly regenerating.

She knew that the test subjects, who were not subjects at all but innocent children who had been callously, cruelly experimented on before the project had been terminated, had shown signs of this capability, along with superhuman speed and strength and a terminal inclination towards violent insanity, all thanks to one of the first soldier drug prototypes, HIMURA.

Megumi looked down at the small, red haired man, carefully taking his measure and allowing him to take hers for a moment before she made what she knew was nothing short of a life and death decision.

(He has shown me no malice…only kindness and compassion…and will receive the same from me) The darker, more cynical side of her heart whispered that if he was insane and went off the bend and slaughtered her, that she'd still end up ahead of where she was now.

"I do not know how you managed to escape, especially considering how young you must have been at the time," She paused, anger igniting in her eyes at the thought of children being put down like rabid dogs, of children being hurt and tormented and rejected because they didn't turn out exactly as planned, "but…strictly speaking as one failed science experiment to another…I am so glad you did."

Reaching down, she took his feverish hand in her chilled one. "There is no obligation, Sir," she paused, not knowing the man's name, only that she felt a deep measure of concern and compassion for a human being whose entire life and purpose had been nothing more than the whim of evil men and woman. The fact that she knew she had to include herself in that number made her heart ache all the more.

"I will have to borrow some clothing, but only so I can get the medical supplies that I need to treat you." Megumi sighed, and gave the sick man's hand a little squeeze before she stood up and walked over to a small sink that she suspected a janitor might use to wash out mops or brushes. Looking around, she found a cloth that looked and smelled clean, got it wet with the icy water and then came back to where the man was lying down and knelt down beside him, folding and pressing the cold compress against the man's flushed forehead. "I have some knowledge about how regeneration works and how much danger an impacted foreign body poses." Concerned, she cupped her cold hand to his cheek, wondering to herself how far the infection had already spread.

"I have no money, and have already sold anything I own that is of value," Megumi said quietly. "I am going to need some sort of antiseptic, bandages and some instrument…a knife, or razor blade that I can sterilize to open up your back and dig out the bullet and clean out the infected tissue. You skin will not need sutures, I suspect, but will still be prone to secondary infections if this is not done correctly." She glanced around the room, at the complete and utter lack of sterilization and wondered whether she would actually be able to heal rather than cause further harm.

**Kenshin**

So...she knew it. How would she know? Who was she? What was she?

Kenshin watched the subtle play of emotions over her face, the set of her shoulders. Horror, fear, regret, a moment of a heart beat where she was hanging in the balance of some momentous decision, and then it was made left with only resignation. She was so weary. Though not weary enough to not grow angry at the thought of innocent lives wasted. (Like lambs to the slaughter. And who was the dog who herded them?)

"You give me too much credit, I'm afraid," Kenshin said with small smile as she said how glad she was that he'd survived it. "I'm just a wanderer, that's all I am." No...no that wasn't right. He had meant to say hitokiri. Where had wanderer come from? Ah, but her hand was cool. Wonderfully so. She had always had such cool and gentle hands. No matter what she had been through, those hands had never become as hard as the rest of her. Though even then, over time, she had grown gentle. A kind woman. Hardworking and compassionate. He was coming up to her, stepping quietly on the engawa, watching her roll bandages while the light picked out the silver in her hair. Her name hovered on his lips.

And he realized he was sleeping. He stirred himself to waking again, to the grimy room, low ceilinged and dingy. He heard the sound of running water and heard her come closer, flinching slightly at the cold and then welcoming it. He wanted to pull it over his face and sink back into the warm darkness of the dream. He had to concentrate, though. She was talking of impacting, infection, medicine and bandages. He smiled.

"In th' box named trash," he said, keeping his words clear. "I have all that. I've been doing this a long time, Megumi-dono." He usually didn't get shot from behind, though. It was all that bastard's fault. Saitou. Salamander. All of them.

**Megumi**

Megumi froze; her hand still on the stranger's cheek. (How does he know my name?) For an instant, she was terrified that she'd made a mistake and that this man, who outwardly seemed so kind and gentle, was secretly a ravening wolf hiding beneath a wanderer's clothing.

But it was her name, and the manner in which he said it that strove to set her heart at ease, even if her mind rebelled at the notion of relying upon another human being. It was her name, uttered in such an antiquated manner, and a memory that was so deep, so utterly ingrained in her bones and sinews and muscles that the feverish man lying beside her was…

(Someone she knew)

Confused and frightened, Megumi looked down at his face, into his eyes. They were violet; a shade she was fond of, a color of a kimono she'd once worn, so long ago, of beautiful iris blooming in a garden, growing tall and wild against an engawa that had seen better days.

(Someone she trusted)

Megumi gasped as other memories announced themselves, recollections of being held and protected, images of being alone with this man in a room, of sweet honey, dried blood and linen bandages by a lantern lit bedside. He'd been wounded then as he was wounded now and she recalled with heartbreaking clarity how warm and strong his back had been when she leaned against him and wept.

(Someone she loved)

She'd watched his man grow old before his time, been helpless to prevent wear and tear and worse yet cares from devouring his body. She could hear him screaming in anguish, weeping for the loss of his heart, for a blue eyed woman lying crumpled, cruelly impaled against a wooden dojo wall, for a black eyed woman whose lifeblood was scattered across pristine snow.

"I know you," she raggedly whispered, unable to help herself, or the tears that fell down, splattering against his nose and cheeks and mouth. "I know you, so well. How…how is this possible?" Embarrassed and shaken, she tried to brush the tears away, but more fell as if a long pent up stream of sorrow and loneliness was suddenly loosened. "I'm sorry, it's just that…"

(I've missed you)

Megumi pursed her lips together and quickly stood up and looked around for the box with medical supplies that this man who she adored yet had never laid eyes on had spoken of. "I'm just tired, that's all," she apologized as she walked over to the box, rubbing her blood stained sleeve over her eyes before peering into the box labeled "Trash". "You must think me a ninny,"

"Treasure" would have been a more appropriate term. She sighed with relief to see everything she needed, everything that she could want (other than a sanitized operating arena with a general anesthesiologist standing at the ready) to help tend to the wounds of the man lying behind her. "This will work," Megumi sniffled, her focus and demeanor shifting as her medical instincts kicked in. "Yes, this will work quite nicely."

In minutes, she had selected all the instruments and implements that she would need to operate and placed them in a coffee can atop a portable burner that was trying to make water boil. Rather than waiting she found a spare blanket and set it aside, knowing that this man in a post-operative state would be in shock and need to stay warm. Bandages and gauze pads were clinically inspected and found to be sufficiently sterile. She checked, and then rechecked the expiration date on the iodine and rubbing alcohol to make sure they would assist her in preventing the spread of infection. Her stomach rumbled. She ignored it, too engrossed in her preparations to care.

Finally the coffee can was steaming, the water at a rapid, sanitizing boil. Megumi found another bowl, filled it with icy tap water, and then carefully poured some of the boiling water into the bowl so that the water became warm and carried it over to where the redhead was resting.

"Are you ready?" she asked, setting the bowl and some clean rags down beside her.

**Kenshin**

"Oro?" What was that expression? It was so strange. Kenshin had never seen anything like it. Fear and then...then something. Confusion? Grief? A sense of being...hungry for something. It was so complex he couldn't even begin to grasp it. She seemed in pain and yet it seemed...it seemed sort of like the ache of a healing wound, the stretch and pull of new skin. He reached up and wiped a tear from her face with his thumb.

"Don't cry," he murmured. Though he didn't understand. Had she said...had she said that she knew him? How could she know him? He didn't understand. But the connection was there. Something strong. Like a pull. What was it. What was it. He wanted to close his eyes and catch it but it was getting to hard to concentrate on anything. In a moment she was gone anyway. He listened to her moving. Her exclamations. Her apologies. This feeling... It was when he looked up out of the fire and saw Shishou, reaching for him.

And that...that feeling of... There wasn't a word.

There wasn't a word and he was tired. He pushed the memory away and watched Megumi-dono set up, all brisk efficiency. Steady hands, warm heart, was that the saying?

_"Are you ready?" she asked._

"Aa." He rolled over onto his stomach, groaning softly as his head and shoulder pulsed in rhythm and pillowing his head on his arms. This was going to be hell.

**Megumi**

Megumi waited till it appeared that the man was as comfortable as he could be, then began to carefully wash the man's right side. She could feel a swollen mass slightly off the right shoulder blade and while the skin she washed was perfect, with no signs of injury, the radiant heat she felt coming up from inside the man's body suggested that something serious was amiss.

Once clean, she took iodine and carefully disinfected the right shoulder, then allowed the iodine to try and she scrubbed her hands till they were pink. She sighed, steadying her mind and her hands for what was to come next.

"Sir," she said, her soft voice sounding loud in the storage room, "I'm going to start now, please try and hold as still as you can."

She waited for a moment, then reached over and carefully removed the sharpest razor blade she was able to find from the sterilized water. The blade was very hot beneath her fingers, but this was necessary considering the depth of the wound and the less than ideal conditions she was operating in.

When she made the first cut, a two inch vertical line that ran along the right shoulder blade, the man tensed up, his muscles becoming steely despite his slender build. "Exhale slowly, try and relax your muscles, or this will hurt worse," she warned as she repeated the movement, the razor slicing past the dermal layers and miniscule fat deposits. A fain grunt was the man's only reply.

Megumi moved quickly, but carefully as she came into contact with the first layer of muscle. A faint, yet sickly sweet odor became apparent as she cut through, moving closer to the impacted mass of infected tissue that housed a bullet. The man was shaking, fine tremors of pain running down his spine every time the blade bit into his skin, but made no sound other than an occasional gasp.

The smell changed when she cut into the second layer of muscle, the sweet, cloying odor transforming into a pungent, nauseating scent that was vaguely reminiscent of spoilt meat. When greenish yellow pus began seeping up under the razor, she stopped, cleaned and irrigated the wound with the hot water, then began cutting again.

"Almost there," she whispered, her strong fingers forcing the infection up out of the man's body and washing it away. "You're doing so well, it won't be much longer," She paused when she felt something hard, something utterly not organic beneath the razor and carefully, cautiously slipped her finger inside the open wound. "There," she muttered, her bloody fingers sliding over the irregular edges of a hollow point shell that had exploded inside the man, sending small bits of lead based shrapnel into his shoulder bone and surrounding muscle. Without tweezers, Megumi plucked out the largest fragments with her fingers, removing them with dreadful care.

The bullet itself had lodged in the shoulder bone and the man's regenerative properties had harmed rather than helped him in this case. "I have to dig the bullet out now," she said regretfully, before using the edge of the razor and carefully applied strength to chisel of the newly formed bone, until the dull blood covered slug was visible. She pursed her lips tightly as she chipped one, twice then…with a dull scrape the bullet was out of the man's heaving shoulder and lying in the center of her bloody palm. "It's over," she set the bullet down beside the futon then prepared to start cleaning the wound and closing the man back up.

**Kenshin**

He had known it would hurt when she was washing the wound, when he could feel the slightest bit of pressure. He was glad that she had warned him first but the flash of pain speared adrenaline through his body. He could feel the air, the back of his neck twinging. He could feel the very edge of the blade, knew where it cut, could picture the separation, the well of blood. The hairs on the back of his neck rose and he wanted to grab those thin wrists and take the blade out of her hands before she cut his throat.

But she wouldn't. Her ki was calm. Centered. He couldn't let his own anxiety reflect badly on this poor lost woman. She told him to breathe and relax.

"Aa," he said and he tried, clenching his fists as it got deeper and deeper, nerves screaming to make it stop. Make it stop! Like the one girl with things in her head that she had tried to claw out. She had kept saying they were spiders. But the bastards hadn't let her out until she'd hung herself. Another hitokiri gone. Another experiment-Ah! Damn it.

It's your own fault for getting shot in the back. Shishou would say, except his voice took on a different form. That-bastard dressed in a blue uniform and smoking idly- Shit. He sucked in a breath between his teeth. Idily... even though...there was so much blood on his hands- hands too and he kept- kept nnnggg- Killing and had the gall to- exist. Fuck. Damnit. Why did it have to hurt so much?

The blade was scraping against the bone. He could hear it. Feel it. It burned through him, pierced, lasted forever and he was hovering on the edge, the dangerous edge of pain and pulsing adrenaline. Needed a blade. Needed to stop the pain. But that...that was never for his own pain. If nothing else it was never to stop his own pain!

(because he certainly caused enough to others)

His ears began to ring with the strain of it. If she didn't stop. If she didn't- He would...he wouldn't. Never.

And then...it was gone. Kenshin sucked in a sweet cold breath. His shoulder throbbed. Blood itched over his back. But it was gone. Thank god.

"It's over," she said. He rested his head on his forearms, unable to stop the shudders that raced through him, partly out of relief, partly as the chill dried his sweat. The air smelled of blood. Everything smelled like that these days.

"Thank you," he murmured. To distract himself. "I am in your debt. If I had to do it myself I would have probably taken off my own shoulder, I would."

**Megumi**

Megumi shook her head, when the blood covered man mentioned that he was in her debt. "On the contrary, Sir," she smiled at her patient as an echo of that odd, tender familiarity began to well up inside her weary heart.

"You've given me a place where I may be able to find a measure of rest, and to be warm," her stomach rumbled again, the sound startling her and causing an embarrassed little laugh to escape from her upturned mouth, "and eat, so that my stupid stomach will shut up." Beyond thankful, and still more than a little surprised at the man's generosity, she patted his good shoulder, "If there is any unequal balance between you and I, it is in your favor, not mine."

For some reason, she knew this to be true. That she was indebted somehow, in some way to the man resting beside her as if he'd taken a burden, one of her making upon his narrow shoulders.

She glanced up as the wind outside began to pick up, whistling and moaning around the mostly abandoned storage complex, as if the weather itself was in pain. It was late in the evening now, and the temperatures were falling rapidly, causing the already chilly storage room to become uncomfortably cold. "I'm going to get you cleaned and bandaged up, and then will see what can be done about a meal."

Turning, she took a took the still hot (but no longer burning) water from the coffee can and began to carefully wash the wound, which no longer stank and was simply bloody rather than puss-filled. When it was clean, she packed the wound with gauze and then began to wash the man's blood covered back, arm and shoulder.

"Try and rest, if you can," she whispered as she rubbed away dried blood and bits of gristle and bone from the man's still feverish skin. Still sick, she knew that the high fever would abate slowly and that even with the reputed regenerative properties that experimentation and forced drug dependence had given to this man, he would still be weak and feel unwell for a day or so more.

"You have blood in your hair," she chided quietly, as she wet the stiff and sticky deep red strands with water, her fingers tugging slightly, but not painfully on the surprisingly soft tresses, "and on your cheek," she reached a little with the makeshift washcloth, running it over the slightly hollowed out cheekbones and over the bridge of a nose that was almost delicate.

There was also blood on his mouth, whether this was from him biting his lip to stay silent, or simply because of the operation he'd endured she didn't know, but she cleaned this part of him as well, albeit very gently since his lips were chapped and cracked from fever.

Eventually, he was blood free, well bandaged and no longer shuddering violently from pain and cold. Megumi checked the futon, thankful that no blood had been spilt on the threadbare fabric and then carefully covered him with the comforter and a spare blanket she'd found in a corner, tucking the edge around his feet so that his body heat could build up beneath the blankets.

Carefully, she then rose carrying the bloody basin of water and poured it down the sink, watching with sleep deprived fascination as the crimson hued liquid gurgled and sloshed down unseen pipes. She then took what water remained in the can, still delightfully warm, and washed her face, neck and hands until she was also as clean as she could hope to be, considering the circumstances.

There was such catharsis in becoming clean, she thought as she washed her hands, pushing a bit of cloth beneath the underside of her fingernails, removing all traces of blood from them, such comfort to be derived from something as simple as a bit of soap, a bit of water and a lot of scrubbing. Wishing that everything was so easily remedied, Megumi glanced down at her top, which was saturated with blood and would need a good washing if she wanted to wear it again in public.

(It will have to wait) There was a sick man to consider and an empty stomach that was painfully twisting itself in knots. Meg pressed a hand to her middle, wincing as her stomach growled again and looked around, trying to decide what to prepare for a meal.

**Kenshin**

"You really don't owe me anything," Kenshin said, though tired of the conversation, understood why she wanted to pursue it. It was gratitude. It was relief. But she had done much more for so little. All he could offer her was food and warmth and marginal safety, but more danger than she could probably imagine, no matter what she had escaped from. He would think about the implications of that when his head didn't hurt so much.

Instead he tried to relax as she cleaned the wound. It was summarily weird to be tended like this. Her hands were gentle and he appreciated the gesture as she washed the blood from his hair and his face, though a flush crept up his cheeks as she touched his lips. He let her do as she liked, though he wanted to push away from her. It was too strange. Too intimate. And it made him feel more weak and helpless than he already was.

Finally though, the bandages were wrapped around him, and though his head still ached and his shoulder, too, as the healing started, it wasn't the same heavy grinding feeling. The adrenaline still spiked through him, though, keeping his eyes open, chasing away the warm dark of sleep-and he watched her move away.

As soon as she was gone he pushed himself up into a sitting position, grunting a little with the effort and closed his eyes as a dizzy spell washed over him. He reached out and passed a brief hand over Kitetsu and realized he hadn't taken his shot for the day. His hands were shaking slightly as he reached for his bag and it felt heavier than ever as he tugged it over, his shoulder aching and twitching painfully with the movement. He should let her administer it but no. He could do this much for himself at least.

He carefully tied up his left arm, pulled out the hard-shelled glasses case he kept his hypodermics in-one left that was full- and focused on making his right hand still as he pushed the thin needle into his arm. Stronger than a hit, the effects flooded through him almost immediately. He closed his eyes and sighed. Yes. This. This is what he'd been needing.

Warmth filled him, sliding through his veins and dulled the ache in his head. It calmed him, energized him, brought to mind that he had nothing but coffee for...for how long had it been? How long had he been sleeping? Didn't matter. For the moment, this feeling was the only thing that mattered.

**Megumi**

Megumi nearly dropped the package of instant noodles that she'd found, when the man sat up in bed. "What are you doing?" She began to ask but when the man reached for his katana, she shut up, and took a nervous step back away from where the man was sitting and held very still.

She watched as the man's slender fingers ghosted over the hilt of a sword that somehow seemed a little less safe than she's assumed it to be. His hand (it's shaking…trembling….why?) snaked out, grabbed a bag that was too far away, too heavy for him to move with such a wound. Instinctively, Meg moved forward (one step forward two steps back seemed to be her dance of choice with his fellow) then froze again, when supplies were taken from the bag.

(Himura) she mouthed the name of the drug in her mind. A proto-meta-amphetamine that had been unleashed on an unsuspecting world, injected into children, whose still forming and adaptable little bodies were able to metabolize the drug better than an adult, gracing them with speed, strength, hyper focus, everything that the government had wanted in the next generation of super soldiers. The fact that it was inherently unstable and teterogenic enough to rapidly and irreparably change the brain chemistry of anyone who was exposed to it, creating an instant, life-long addict, was of no consequence to scientists like her father.

(Where there are great risks…there can be great rewards)

It was her father's motto, the phrase he'd literally beat her into her brain and body from before she was born till he disappeared a few months before the military came for her and her brother. She glanced over her shoulder at the man sitting, nigh oblivious to everything around him, save the serum that he was shooting into his slender arm.

(Where is this man's reward?) she wondered unhappily as she filled up a dinged up aluminum pot with water, placed it on the portable burner and added several packet of instant noodles, then went scrounging about, looking for any sort of seasoning she could find.

She found a packet of dried chili powder, perhaps from a long-forgotten take out order and sprinkled some of the red flakes into the noodle mixture, then after finding some salt and one half crushed packet of pepper, added them as well.

She closed her eyes when she heard the man sigh, the pleasure and relief in his voice all too apparent. She felt as if she was intruding on something private, something that she had no business being witness to and while her rational mind knew that this injection (and every injection that he would take for the rest of his life, lest he die in agony while withdrawals ripped his body from the inside out) was necessary, her heart, confused and chaotic as it was, lamented the necessity of such an act.

(This is why they started experimenting again) Thankful that her back was to the man, Megumi's expression became stark as she numbly stirred the noodles, until the seasoning and sauce mix began to steam and bubble, filling the little storage room with hints of spice, sweetness and heat. The drug dependency (not to mention the unfortunate side-effect of going stark raving mad within a year of use) was a liability, one that the military and those that opposed all that the powers that be stood for, wanted to eliminate from the equation. Turning away from the transitory and instability of chemicals in the blood stream and brain, the movement shifted to something more stationary, a branch of science that was still young (though not as young as the children who were used as lab rats) Megumi thought, scrunching her nose up in an attempt not to gnash her teeth and scream at the unfairness of it all.

She was tired. She was hungry, so much in fact that the scent of food was at once both intoxicating and nausea inducing. She swallowed, suddenly sick to her stomach, paused, and swallowed again, pushing down bile in the back of her throat, and kept stirring as if her life depended on it. She stirred, added a pinch of this, a sprinkle of that and wondered at the man sitting behind her, who was, at least in her best estimation NOT insane using a drug that everyone – even the generals and scientists who had failed to learn from history and once again taken up the worst aspects of science, were convinced was lost, the formula destroyed.

Eventually the food was done. She looked around, found two plates and two chopsticks covered in plastic wrap, and then averting her eyes, not sure how the man would react now that he had a chemical cocktail like no other surging through his veins, walked over to the futon and announced that dinner was ready.

**Kenshin**

Anger. Cold dull anger. Hopeless anger. Kenshin could feel it even before he opened his eyes and looked at her back. She was too vulnerable still, hunched over and cooking, the smell of spices filling the air. What she was angry at was hard to guess. He looked down at the depleted needle. (Maybe she's just disappointed. You're not half of what you once were.)

That wore the euphoric feeling away to nothing. It always did. It was funny, he used to not care until he came here. It was just another part of life. But then he'd never seen so many AMP users. AMP and RUSH and METAL, wasting their lives, their bodies, for the feeling. This feeling that he shared with them. He was no better than them and yet he killed them...and he would keep on killing them if he needed to for...for what?

For a better world? As if he stopping one drug dealer wouldn't prevent someone else from sneaking into the gap. As if drugs wouldn't always be here. Wouldn't always be worse. But even if he could save the life of one more innocent it would be worth it. (Because the end justifies the means? Baka deshi there is no end.) He put the needle back in the case and shoved it in the bag and a moment later she was walking toward him, bearing food and looking away.

Anxious. Afraid. (Ashamed.) Kenshin smiled.

"That smells delicious, it does. Usually I just eat something from a can, but I'm sure it will taste much better this way." He reached up with his right arm, winced, and took it with his left instead, leaning over a bit to slurp the noodles without getting them everywhere.

"They are good. It's been a long time since I've had home cooking." If Shishou's could be said to count. "Do you cook much?"

**Megumi**

Hesitantly, Megumi glanced up at the man, then down at her noodles.

"I did," she answered honestly, thinking back on when she prepared food for her and her brother. "It's been a while." (Three years, three weeks and one day to be precise) Megumi picked up a few noodles in her chopstick and took a bite, the first real food she'd had in nearly a week. She shuddered, party from being chilled, closed her eyes, and sighed, then took another bite, one that hinted at how painfully hungry she'd been.

"I like to cook," she admitted, almost shyly after she'd swallowed the spicy noodles.

She took another bite, trying not to wolf the food down, and then glanced over at the man sitting beside her. She'd been terrified that the drug would make him violent, but those fears were starting to subside, leaving behind a slight red haired man with a sore shoulder who seemed almost as hungry as she was.

"There's more," unused to having any sort of civil conversation, she felt like she was made of social rust. "I made plenty and, oh…one second," she set her plate down and went over to the sink and carefully filled the one glass she could find and a bowl with a crack on the lip of it with cold tap water, then carried them back to where the man was sitting.

"Here, Sir, something to drink." She offered him the glass, took the bowl for herself and sat down, perhaps a little closer than she had before and took a drink of water, delighting in the fact that she could. Peering at him over the rim of the bowl, she hazarded a small smile. "I'm out of practice, I'm afraid, when it comes to hosting a dinner."

She shivered, the blood on her scrubs was chilly and her feet were bare and exposed to the concrete floor. "It's odd how easy it is to forget, to become unaccustomed to such basic things, such simple acts." Still, she was more comfortable now, sitting half on half off a lumpy futon in a cold basement storage room with a man she couldn't quite remember, who by all accounts should not exist, than she had been in years. She smiled again, and took another blessed bite.

**Kenshin**

She liked to cook? That was obvious. The food was good and a better fare than he usually had. He accepted the glass of water from her and drank gratefully. He noticed with a faint smile that she'd sat a little closer. She was like a timid deer he'd seen once, who had moved closer and closer until it had lipped the rice out of his hand before bounding back into the forest.

She was no deer, however, and wanted more than food. There was such a sense of longing in her. Loneliness. Faint hope. He was not the person for it. He barely had time to live his own life, whatever that was, to be there for someone else. Still, for this moment, as long as they were together, he could try to give her what she needed, a sense of family, safety, comfort. Sometimes protecting someone was more than swinging a katana.

"Call me Kenshin," he said with a smile. "Himura Kenshin, I suppose, technically." He finished his noodles and set the glass down. His head was starting to throb a bit more now and her shivering was starting to make him cold. Cold and sore. He wanted to put the comforter around her thin shoulders but the thought of standing up made him dizzy, so he settled on tugging it so that it rested securely on her feet.

"It is easy to forget, that it is," he said. "But it's easier to remember when you're with friends. Bad times become distant dreams, they do." He remembered when this used to be Tokyo. When the air was clean. Warm sunlit days. A woman laughing. Children laughing. Friends. Family. Not really a memory. A dream of a different time. A fantasy.

He had closed his eyes.

He realized this and opened them again, smiling at Megumi but for a moment, seeing her in that fantasy world. Smiling and finally...finally... what? (happy)

"I'm afraid this one isn't much of a friend, but if it's worth anything at all, I would like to be yours." Because she needed one. And if he could help even a little, he would do all that he could to make sure she got to that warm place. Somehow. Some day.

**Megumi**

"_I'm afraid this one isn't much of a friend, but it it's worth anything at all, I would like to b__e yours."_

Shocked into stillness, Megumi glanced over the man, at Kenshin. Yes, that was his name. Of course it was. Why had it been so difficult for her to remember such a thing? "I am not adept at recalling all that I should," She whispered softly, half to herself as her breath started to condense and become misty as the temperature in the storage room continued to drop. "…and can't seem to forget things that are best left alone."

Outside the wind howled, there was a loose plank or shutter nearby, one that beat an uneven tempo against the icy exterior walls. A fading police siren could be heard in the distance, and somewhere in a neighboring building, a couple was having an argument. It was an imperfect counter-melody to the steady cadence in her cold chest. "But I think that for you, Himura Kenshin, I would be willing to make an exception to my normal state of mind."

Brushing her hair back behind her ear, she bent and took Kenshin's empty plate and put hers atop it. She could see that he was exhausted and certainly had to be in pain. Her heart tightened a little as another wave of half-forgotten / almost remembered thoughts moved through her, thoughts of him and of others, faces lacking names, but not feeling.

And being moved, she moved, rising up on her knees and leaning over a little so she could brush her lips quickly against a cheek that was warm with fever. "You have shown me more kindness in an evening than I have known for many years." Megumi gave the man a shy, inscrutable smile, then quickly stood up and carried the plates to the janitor's sink. "So you'll have to forgive me if I don't agree with your self-assessment and gladly take what measure of friendship you give me and offer mine back in return."

She turned on the water and began scrubbing away the remains of the meal.

It was hard to remember in the dark times. Sometimes it was even painful. Kenshin wondered if he had said the right thing but she seemed content enough. The temperature was dropping and he couldn't stop the shiver that ran over his skin and pulled at his shoulder. He cocked his head at the police siren, heart jumping into his throat and then relaxing as it passed, like the ghost of a lost child. He shivered again.

**Kenshin**

He smiled as she said his name, though it seemed odd, somehow. Maybe because he'd rarely heard it that way outside of the mouth of one of the doctors. (Maybe because he was used to another way?) He saw her shift and come closer, though there was nothing aggressive in her mood, he tensed as she pressed her lips to his cheek, and perhaps let out a strangled oro, feeling more heat rush to his cheeks which only grew hotter at her compliment.

"It's...it's no problem, that it isn't," he said when she spoke. He rubbed the back of his head. "This one is just concerned for your well-being, he is. Though I'm glad to have your friendship in return, Megumi-dono, that I am."

She turned away finally, thankfully, washing dishes. He rubbed his bare arm, feeling his heart settle once more. This was going to be difficult, it was. She really had no idea what he meant. His friendship wasn't worth much. Less than nothing for all the danger and trouble that came with it. He closed his eyes and touched his cheek where her lips had been. The smoothness of it startled him and he traced his fingers along his face. Where was...where was what?

He shook his head and regretted it, shifting to pull back the comforter, and then looked at the narrow futon, and then did the math.

(Oro)

She was...well obviously this futon would only be really comfortable for one, it would. He would be fine against the wall. She had gotten the extra blanket out and all he had to do was grab it.

He pushed himself shakily to his feet, sucking between his teeth as his shoulder pulled as he went to get the blanket. Dizziness swept over him and he had to kneel, and then sit, tugging the blanket clumsily around his shoulders. Then Kitetsu was too far.

Well he would get it...in just...just a second.

**Megumi**

Dishes clinking, Megumi she quickly made short work of the plates, glass, bowl and pot then turned to see if the man (the man has a name) If Kenshin-san had fallen asleep yet.

"What are you doing?" She demanded, her expression sliding between bemusement and chagrin as she watched the wounded man try and pull a blanket up around his exposed shoulders. "Why aren't you… Oh, honestly," she sighed and wiped her cold hands pant legs that had seen much better days and walked over to where Kenshin-san was sitting. "You need to get to bed before you reinjure that shoulder." Megumi knelt down beside him and pointed at the futon, rather imperiously.

"If you think that I am going to take the bed of an injured man out some…some….antiquated notion of male/female protective roles, you are seriously, seriously mistaken."

She pointed again and tugged slightly at the edge of the thinner blanket.

"Move it."

**Kenshin**

She was a bit scary when she was mad. Still Kenshin held on doggedly to the blanket. Antiquated gender roles or no, he was just a hitokiri, that he was, and the floor was very uncomfortable. It just wouldn't be right.

"This one is very tough so don't worry about me. I'm used to sleeping on the floor so you can take the futon. I'll be fine against the wall, I will."

**Megumi**

Megumi blew a stray lock of hair out of her eyes.

"This one," she pointed to herself, "who I feel inclined to point out does not have a freaking hole in her shoulder is even tougher and has spent the last few weeks sleeping quite comfortably, thank you very much, in doorways and dumpsters."

"You're the patient. I'm the doctor." She pointed again towards the futon as her teeth began to violently chatter. "So allow me to express my professional opinion again. GET TO BED."

**Kenshin**

"Just because you have doesn't mean you should," Kenshin said. There was no help for it, though. She was passionate about him taking the futon and he knew her concern was more out of his welfare. However, he couldn't acquiesce so readily. She was cold, she was, and it was going to be even colder for her on the stone floor.

"You'll get sick if you stay on the floor. So maybe..." He scratched his cheek. "Maybe we should share. There's just enough room there is, and two blankets and it's so cold out that it would be better to share body heat, wouldn't it?" Though not in that way. He mentally begged her not to take it the wrong way and steeled himself for a well placed whack if she thought he was being a pervert.

**Megumi**

Megumi looked at Kenshin, then at the futon, then back, pursing her lips together thoughtfully. (He's stubborn enough to argue with me till his feet freeze to the floor)

"It would reduce the risks of hypothermia," she conceded after a moment, tapping her finger on her chin. "and there are two blankets."

She glanced at the slightly nervous looking man, wondering if he thought she'd kissed him on his cheek, just so she could sleep somewhere where the statistical chances of having an appendage fall off due to frostbite was slightly more in her favor.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Megumi asked, not wanting to mess up a friendship that was only minutes old "I swear, I won't try and pull any moves, or whatever it is that loose women sharing futons in storage rooms do."

**Kenshin**

"I guess I will just have to trust you," he said with a relieved grin. She didn't look the least bit angry or embarrassed. He'd forgotten what a level-headed woman she could be. Even though...it would be a rather tight fit and the last person he'd shared any sort of bed with had been Shishou-and even then touching was minimal. If you could count being clubbed in the head with a sprawled out hand as touching.

"I don't mind at all." Or at least, not in the ways that she probably thought he did. "As a matter of fact, it would be an honor to sleep-" with? No. "-beside you."

Though of course now he had to make his way back to the bed. Only a few steps away but it seemed so far. He offered a faint smile to her before pushing himself back and moving to the futon, shifting gingerly onto his left side. Thankfully it was the side closest to Kitetsu, though hopefully he wouldn't have to lift it.

"Megumi-dono should find somewhere to stay, she should." He said after a moment of silence, absently rubbing his thumb over the guard. "It's not healthy for her to stay out in the cold so much."

**Megumi**

Secretly feeling a lot more nervous that she let on, Megumi looked at the man lying on the futon, his back turned to her. "I know," she glanced down at her scrub top, which was now caked with blood and becoming decidedly tacky. "I have not exactly been in a position these past few weeks where I can safely access funds to secure a place to live."

Feeling rather pathetic, she gave her hair a little flip. "I'm working on it though, and hopefully by the end of the week things will be a little easier," She shivered and wrapped her arms around her middle.

"Kenshin-san, I must impose on your kindness again and ask if I might borrow a shirt and perhaps some pants to wear this evening, just until I can wash my scrubs," she paused and then motioned to a pile of clothing folded in one corner of the room. "I promise that I'll wash and return your clothing if that's all right?"

When her man nodded, she gingerly went to the corner and tried to find the oldest shirt and pants she could find, not wanting to take advantage of her host's kindness any more than she already had.

Having selected a light gray shirt and some black sweatpants that had seen better days, Megumi glanced back at the futon where Kenshin was resting, then moved to the opposite side of the room and turned her back to him, her face flushing with mortification as she tried to decide the most modest way to strip in front of a man she'd barely met.

Tugging her top down, she quickly slid off the blood spattered scrub bottoms while praying that her bottom was not peeking out from beneath her top. She could tell that her friend (the first she'd ever had aside from her brother) was shy, if his reaction to a peck on the cheek was any indicator and she didn't want to do or say anything that would cause him to regret his decision to let her rest her until morning.

(And then what...) Megumi pushed the thought aside as she pulled the soft sweatpants up. They were too small, her longer legs making the black pants into highwaters, but they were clean and soft and didn't smell of blood.

Pants on, she pulled off the filthy top, shuddering as her bare back was exposed to the cold. She pulled the old cotton-poly t-shirt on. It too was too small, revealing a small expanse of her lower back and stomach, but was just as clean and soft and after weeks of washing and wearing the same garment over and over again, felt like silk against her skin.

"Thank you," she said as she padded over to the janitor's sink, filled it with cold water and put her scrubs in the water where she hoped that a good soak could make the blood soaked garments almost presentable again.

Scrubs soaking, she looked around the room and after a moment's hesitation, where she summoned up the courage to slip into a bed with a man for the first time in her life, she went and knelt by the futon, hesitated again, then slid down beside where he was laying, made sure that they were properly covered with the comforter and then held very, still, her body as stiff as a board.

**Kenshin**

Kenshin could only nod at the question. Though he had no problem with her borrowing his clothes, even keeping them if need be- it was...the thought of someone else wearing them- a woman at that was...was strange. He heard the rustle of cloth and closed his eyes tightly. Not that he could even see her from this position but just in case he didn't want either of them to be embarrassed.

As he tried not to hear the shifting of cloth, he turned his mind to other things. She had no where to stay. He, did, though. There were other safe houses. And one even heated, though she would have to sneak up eight flights of stairs to get there. If only he had the money to give her. A clinic to send her to where she would be protected, would find her place. But she was working on it…good…

The warmth of the comforter was starting to sink into him, fill him with warm darkness. Images pressed and swirled in his mind, in and out of his consciousness. There was room, warm with hazy spring light. The rustle of cloth and the yukata slipped just a little revealing a pale shoulder, delicate but strong. The fall of long dark hair. So young. Too young. But like a soothing mountain stream, fresh and bright, though her shoulders were warm and the curve of her neck…

The blankets shifted and he stirred. Where…who…? Megumi…Right. She had said something to him but he didn't sense her waiting for an answer so it must not have been important. She was tense again. He could feel her coiled muscles against his back as if she was unsure, worried.

"Relax," he murmured slowly. "There's nothing to be afraid of." He yawned and stroked Kitetsu's guard. "That there isn't."

**Megumi**

"O..Okay," Locking her jaw so her teeth didn't chatter in the poor man's ear, Megumi nodded and tried to force her body to relax. "I'm not afraid," she blinked, as her weariness settled over her like a sleepy shroud, the heat of a feverish body next to hers and a blanket (a blanket!) covering her chilled arms and legs and toes, made her feel as if she was sleeping in the most luxurious bed in the world.

Muscles relaxed, her heart, which had been racing, began to slow and shallow breathing turned into contented sighs. Without realizing it, she snuggled a little closer to the man, basking in both warmth and safety, and closed her eyes.

"Sweet dreams..." Megumi's voice was as soft as her borrowed clothing. Pulling her arms up so they were against her chest, tucking them beneath her chin, she opened her heavy eyes one last time, focusing on a fall of soft red hair and a bandaged back, then sighed, utterly content, and gently fell asleep, "...Ken-san."


	2. What You Do in the Beginning

Date: February 7th, 2060

Time: Early morning

Place: Kenshin's safe house, New Meiji Lower Districts

Characters: Kenshin, Megumi, Saitoh

**Kenshin**

_The road went on. Snow crunched under his feet, chilling them. Icy fingers slid along his arms, trickled down the back of his neck. He couldn't stop walking. Weary. Bent. His sword leaving red trails on the snow, red petals in the air._

You did this…

Aa

He tripped and nearly fell. The snow jabbed at his hand like needles. A mouthful clutched in his palm, pressed in his mouth to hide his breath, but it was hot. It was all hot and cold at the same time and he was looking...Searching... No... Following. Just ahead. There she was. The woman with the long black hair. He wanted to reach for her. Wanted to step away. His hands... they weren't meant to touch. They were only meant to kill. She turned slightly as if she had heard his step, paused and he could see a cell phone pressed to her ear.

"You can't stay out here," he told her. "It's dangerous."

"I have to. Hello? Hello?" Her voice rose in desperation. "Is he hurt?" And then she pinned him with wide dark eyes. "I'm looking for Sa-chan."

No. No! The darkness snapped around them. Just the two of them. The snow.

"Sa-chan. I'm looking for Sa-chan!"

"No, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Sa-chan!"

Kenshin jerked awake, breath rattling in his lungs, ice racing over his skin. The darkness was everywhere. A warm breath against the back of his neck made tension knot along his spine. He pushed himself up and looked over, seeing a pale face, long dark hair spread out. His heart jumped, his hand trembled, and he realized it was Megumi.

Megumi.

God.

Kenshin pushed a hand through his hair. His phone started to buzz, rattling against the concrete. He picked it up so that it wouldn't wake her and carefully stood. His shoulder aching, still hot, but he was healing. That was good.

He made sure the comforter was securely tucked around her before feeling his way to the janitor's closet. It was even darker in here. Colder. The water was dripping and he could just make out the barest outline of the sink. The phone buzzed in his hand and he flicked it open and then realized with a horrid, sinking feeling that it wasn't his. A text message from Hiroko waited.

_Whoever has this. My brother is dead._

Kenshin shut the phone and slammed it to the floor, hearing it clatter away into the darkness and buzz again, weakly, a dying thing. He wanted to crush it. (Like you do everything else?) Kenshin punched the wall then twisted on the freezing water, splashing his face, feeling the icy fingers trail down his neck.

(_You made the blood rain fall_)

"I know," he murmured, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. "Shut up!"

**Megumi**

Megumi cracked one eye open. For an instant, she was disoriented (it had been so long since she woke up in a bed with a blanket) about where she was, then the moment passed and she recalled the events from the previous evening, remembered a man, someone who was willing to call her a friend.

She inhaled, then exhaled quickly as icy air filled her lungs. It was freezing in the storage room and she burrowed down beneath the body warmed comforter, desperately trying to stay warm. Kenshin was gone, she reached over to where he' been sleeping and felt the warmth of where he'd laid already starting to fade, to disappear. Megumi looked around, but it was too dark to see, so she listened instead.

There was a clatter. She squinted into the darkness, trying to see where he might be. A very faint buzzing sound followed. It sounded like a phone or tablet going off. (Perhaps he got a phone call?) Megumi thought, still a little drowsy.

"I know. Shut up!"

Apparently the call was not of the most positive variety. Megumi pulled the edge of the blankets up around her nose. It was cold. She decided to stay put, just for a few more minutes, until Kenshin had finished with a conversation that was none of her business.

Rolling onto her side, lay there silently, thinking about next steps. (I need to get back to the library, see if I got a response back to my post on the web board) She'd been making what she hoped were secure, discreet inquiries about how to securely access her finances in a manner that would not put the military or the syndicate on her trail. They thought her dead (with very good reason) and she needed to make sure that it stayed that way.

She sighed, her breath warm beneath the blankets. (Once I have better resources, I will need to find a job.) She'd never applied for a job in her life and couldn't exactly offer up a resume, not after what she'd done to those poor soldiers. Megumi scrunched her eyes shut, the ache in her heart so painful that she barely bit back a groan as she thought about the Captain Sagara, the officer that she'd desperately tried to contact, to warn when her efforts to reason with the military officers failed.

(He didn't believe me) She'd been hysterical at the time, so she really couldn't fault the man, having been chased and tackled in a hallway that led to room where the serum was going to be administered. Terror and anger had given her a measure of extra strength and she'd been able to throw off the guards and scramble into the room, catching the officer by the arm. He had seemed kind and had tried to steady her, to calm her. Clutching at him, she'd tried to warn him that the serum wasn't safe that he was putting his life and the lives of his men at risk by allowing the government to conduct this test.

When soldiers came running in, and tried to pull her from the room, she'd screamed out, hoping that someone…anyone would listen to her frantic pleas. For an instant, she thought she might have gotten through to the captain, until the officer conducting the experiments announced that she was insane, a mental patient, that her warnings were nothing more than the delirious ramblings of a mad woman.

As she was pulled out of the room, she heard Sagara announce that he'd take the first injection, as any good commanding officer would do. He was also the first one she heard scream when things went horribly, horribly wrong.

Megumi covered her face with her hands, shuddering with grief and guilt over what she'd done, over the lives she'd helped take. (I have to make this right…) It was her mantra now, the words she lived…and hopefully would someday die by. (I have to make this right). At the moment, lying in someone else's bed, wearing someone else's clothing with no money, no computer, no connections save it the man who was holed up in the Janitor's closet on a phone call, her task seemed utterly insurmountable.

**Kenshin**

Kenshin sighed, resting his wrists against the cold metal basin. Water sloshed and as he peered into the gloom he saw that they were shapes in the water. Strange jellyfish like blobs. He touched a tentative hand to one and cloth swirled against his fingers. For a moment he was perplexed, but then he got it. Ahh, a shirt. Her shirt. He plucked it out of the water and squeezed it out. The phone buzzed again and he clenched the shirt, freezing water trickling over his fingers. The phone buzzed and buzzed, clattering, and then stopped once more. He realized he was still twisting the shirt and clenching his teeth so hard his head hurt.

So is this what he was going to do? React every time something reminded him of a monster he was? Kenshin had made the choice to kill him. He didn't have the right to feel guilty after the fact. Salamander had a family. So did the young girls who were kidnapped. Who had nothing to do with him or his gang. Girls who, it was rumored, had everything taken from them, including their own will as drugs were pumped through their system. (And you justify murder with murder.)

He flapped the shirt, probably harder than necessary, making his shoulder twinge and put it on top of some of the closed boxes until it was light enough to dig out his clothes line. Megumi was awake, hands to her face, wrapped in her own pain. Misery. (Guilt?)

He was not the only one with questions this morning.

"Good morning, Megumi-dono," he said in a warm voice. He grabbed a can of fuel and refilled the space heater so he could turn it on, the warm glow shining on Megumi's narrow back. He reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder a moment to let her know she was not alone.

"After I finish your clothes I'll start on breakfast, I will," he said, straightening. "Though I'm afraid this one's cooking can't compare at all to yours."

**Megumi**

Megumi stirred slightly, when Kenshin called her name. She'd been in the process of falling back asleep with her hands still covering her face and had been half dreaming of running down metal corridors, peering into empty rooms, looking for her brother, for Kenshin, for someone else who she couldn't quite recall.

"Mmm," still half asleep, she sighed contentedly, smiling at the heat and light from a space heater and a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Good Morning, Ken-san," Thrilled to be waking up warm, she rolled onto her back, and stretched, the vertebrae in her back popping as she moved sleep stiffened muscles. "I hope you slept well, that I didn't snore," she murmured pleasantly, still not quite fully awake. "Never slept by anyone before," she yawned then sat up in the futon, "so I wasn't quite sure."

She woke up a little more when Kenshin announced that he was going to do laundry AND fix breakfast. (He's very good at laundry) Megumi knew this as surely as she knew the radioactive decay rate of cadmium, but that wasn't the point.

"Oh, no. You shouldn't have to do anything. Please…let me help – at least let me fix breakfast," she offered warmly. It was a good morning, a safe and warm beginning to what she was determined to make an even better day. "It's the least I can do after having had such a good night's sleep." She smiled and got out of bed, then set about to making the futon.

"You're still a little feverish, I think," she commented as she folded up the spare blanket, "but you're moving much better than before." She stifled another yawn, hiding it behind her hand, "How's your shoulder feeling?"

**Kenshin**

"Aa, if you like," he said with a smile. She had woken up well. Whatever nightmares or regrets had settled for the moment. It was strange how much a simple touch could do. If only that could be applied to everyone. He kept his smile and went to crouch beside the boxes to check for the laundry cord. It was difficult to find in the orange glow.

"I slept very well, thank you, and my shoulder is much better thanks to your efforts. Ah." He found the cord and pulled it out. He moved to the janitor's closet and stood on the balls of his feet to get the cord on the hooks that had been screwed to either side of the wall. (Why were they so high? This was Japan, wasn't it? Sometimes he wondered...)

He took her pants from the sink and squeezed them out. Hard wearing clothes they were, but a bit worn, still. She would have to get something more to wear since...one look told him his clothes weren't exactly adequate. He sighed and slung the pants over the cord, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder as he spread it out so it would dry better. Then he gathered the shirt. The bloodstains were still there.

"You might have to bleach this if you want to keep it," Kenshin said. Since even in New Meiji, blood stains tended to draw attention.

**Megumi**

"The only thing I am doing to do to that top is burn it," Megumi said flatly, fixing her gaze on the bloodstains, for a second, thinking about where the holes and blood and wear and tear had come from. "the pants as well, once I get things sorted out."

She looked over at Kenshin, and her expression brightened a little. "I thought about what you said last night, about finding a place to stay. I've been working on it, but being here, meeting you…it's made me want to try harder."

She took the folded blanket and put it away then walked over to the area of the room that served as a makeshift kitchen and started rummaging, picking up a carton here and a can there, trying to think of how to use the modest ingredients at hand to fix her friend a wonderful meal. It wasn't much, but it was a start. "I've been working on accessing my bank accounts, and think I've found someone who is willing to set up a secure transfer that hopefully won't attract any undue attention."

She twisted open a bottle of miso paste. "One we've eaten and I know that your shoulder is really feeling better and you're not trying to be all heroic and manly and whatnot, I'd like to take advantage of your hospitality one final time and borrow a pair of shoes," she looked down and wiggled her toes at him, "if they fit, and head to a library, or web café and work on getting some sort of meeting set up."

She said nothing for a while, immersing herself in the simple, peaceful act of preparing food for herself and someone she cared about. Memories of doing this with her brother, of fixing favorite dishes and sitting beside his bedside as he ate filled her mind. (I wonder who's caring for him now?) A part of her feared that with her gone and presumed dead, that the government would no longer have a reason to keep an invalid alive.

A familiar ache began to form in her heart, a painful little knot of worry and sorrow. She pushed it away, tried very hard to set it aside for another time and stay positive, to smile like her friend did. God knows his life wasn't easy. She'd been a fugitive for what? Three weeks? He'd been doing this for years. While Megumi knew next to nothing about his life, she knew that simply being a Hitokiri was nothing short of a death sentence and that if caught, he'd end up being quietly eliminated, or worse, yet taken to some nameless military hospital and experimented on, to see why he'd manage to stay sane (and kind, and compassionate) while so many others had not.

And that, she realized, would break her heart.

"When I get things sorted out, and if you want to, I'd love to fix you a real meal, prepare whatever your favorite foods are," she offered her voice and expression becoming hopeful and vibrant as she thought about being able to offer something back, to be a contributor to this dynamic rather than just a consumer. "It will be spring soon, and I can make us a huge plate of Ohagi to share." It was an old family recipe, one that she'd loved fixing from the time she'd been a little girl.

The loaded burner, unused to dealing with anything more robust than reheating canned items and the occasional package of noodles began to smoke. Megumi swore under her breath and turned down the temperature a little, lest she cause a fire.

"I think I gave it a stroke, poor thing," she looked down at the overwhelmed burner in mock pity, then up at the smoke that was accumulating above her head. "I'd best open the door, before we end up huffing our meal, rather than eating it."

She stood up, then walked over to the door, and opened it so that the smoke could clear.

Back lit by the tiny space heater, Megumi peered out into the dark, cold hallway for a second. (Is someone out there?) She squinted a little, her sharp eyes detecting movement…detecting…

Megumi's eyes went wide with horror as she saw a red dot rapidly moving up stomach, locking on her chest, the blood red laser light the only warning she had that something horrible was about to happen. She gasped, her body starting to shake with a mixture of adrenaline and terror and took a step back, raising her hands out in front of her to show she was unarmed. (It won't matter..)

"No!" she pleaded, her voice cracking as she threw herself against the door, trying to shut it before it was too late, "Please! Don't do…" Another light appeared on her chest and she had the split sensation of hearing an electrical crackle before a bolt of searing light and heat tore into her…tore through her.

**Kenshin **

He could understand why she wouldn't want to keep it. A soak had done a little for it but there was still much to be done and regardless of whether or not she wanted to burn it, walking around the city with the shirt in this state wasn't wise. Maybe he could scrub some of it out. He had some detergent left over. Or was this safehouse out? He really couldn't keep track of all of them.

Kenshin set the shirt back down and began to search for it, listening as Megumi spoke cheerfully of all the things she would do and need to do. Having plans was a good sign, it was. She was preparing for the future, despite the terrible past she must have suffered. She was a strong woman, indeed she was. And kind, too.

He found the detergent, but kept where he was, crouched over a box so he could watch her prepare food out of the corner of his eye. This was another meal they would share. If he wasn't careful he would start to get used to it again. Yet… even more strange was knowing it was mostly for his sake that she prepared the food, and it made her happy. It was such a simple action. Why didn't more people know this?

Those lurking outside certainly didn't. They were closer now, but it was still too early to tell who they were and what they wanted…if anything. Eventually he would have to go out and confront them, even if it was just to warn them off. The fear tugged at him though. It wasn't the gut wrenching feeling of a victim. Uncertainty, maybe, but about what?

"Ohagi would be wonderful," Kenshin said, taking the detergent and flipping the shirt over his arm. "You know, I don't think I ever had it." He went into the janitor's closet, pulling the plug to drain the dirty water and then turning the tap on low for fresh so that he would have an excuse to stand and concentrate on what was going on outside. No doubt about it, they were getting closer, but it was hard to tell whether or not they were after them. It could be completely unrelated and it was better to not alarm either them or Megumi.

The smell of something burning caught his nose and Megumi cursed. She would be able to handle it.

"I'd best open the door, before we end up huffing our meal, rather than eating it," she said. Ah, that was probably not a good idea.

Kenshin turned off the water and flicked it off his hands, and started to turn.

"Megumi-dono, I—" And then he felt a burst of pure maniacal glee, razor sharp through the air. He darted into the room just as Megumi was screaming

"Please! Don't do—"

He slid to the futon, grabbed _Kitetsu_ and a blast rocked the storage room. Kenshin watched Megumi being lifted off her feet blood spraying out from her back and moving in an almost graceful arc before hitting the wall and sliding down, leaving a red trail behind her. It was... She was... but she looked so peaceful.

He faintly heard the sound of shoes on concrete and saw the police enter.

"I think you have something that belongs to us, AMPhead."

Kenshin's attention was dragged to the lean man as he spoke, the sniper's rifle held loosely in his wide hands, smoke curling from the muzzle. He had something…? What…?

The tablet.

They had come for the tablet.

They had come for the tablet and Megumi—was—

"Pity, huh?" the lean man's gaze slid to Megumi and Kenshin felt the man's pleasure spike, could see it in his grip, the dilation of his eyes, the way his grin widened. He had wanted to kill her. Even knowing she was innocent. Just for the pure undiluted pleasure.

Anger filled Kenshin, radiating from his bones, a kind of ancient fury that slipped over him, through him, cold and sharp as a blade. The world sharpened as if he'd taken a hit. Everything fell into stark detail. He could see the cops shift. Hear the twitch of their muscles and the thud of their hearts. They were all calm, arrogant, except for the tiny pinprick of fear near the back. The lean man slowly turned his head back to look at Kenshin, his pulse jumping giddly under his neck. The lean man's grin twitched as a drug kicked in, his eyes pools of black.

"I hope you paid the stupid—"

"Your life is already forfeit," Kenshin said, shifting his stance. "As for the rest of you, I'll return the tablet," he told the other cops, who were already starting to fumble epi pens from their sleeves. "But if you plan to fight I'll show you no mercy."

"Have this for mercy," the lean man said and Kenshin pivoted before the man had even lifted the rifle, drawing _Kitetsu_ even as he spun to get momentum. The blade came free and he saw the bullet, a black shot before the blade snapped through it, sending the two pieces spinning in different directions and slamming into the wall.

He shifted to the side as another bullet shattered the wall and glared at the police behind the lean man, not bothering to shield his ki. They startled like a line of deer. Froze. Someone yelped. A line of sweat ran down the lean one's face and he jammed another epi pen in his arm.

"I'm not afraid of you, you bastard!" the lean man screamed, running forward, reaching for a blade at his back. Kenshin cut his head off. Almost unaware of how he did it. The lean man fell to the ground, not even a sliver of knife pulled from the sheath at his back. Blood from his neck soaking into the concrete.

"If you kill like an animal than you deserve to be slaughtered like one," Kenshin said, flicking the blood from his blade and ducked as the others opened fire.

The cops shot everywhere, screaming, fear and anger and AMP making them stupid. One charged into the room, shooting as if he knew nothing else. Kenshin charged him, moving left and right to avoid his fire, pivoting and snipping the tendons, first in his arms, then at the back of his legs. He screamed and fell, twitching onto the floor. Then there was another one, shooting. Shooting. At everyone. Everything. His lips drawn tight back from his teeth, his eyes black with shock. He had gone mad.

"Wait! _Wait_!" a shorter cop said. The mad cop gave him one glance before shooting him in the face. Kenshin, pushed forward, twisting out of the way of a bullet, using the force of his spin to come back and cut him in half, spine only giving momentary resistance before it severed and he fell.

Four down. One left. Crouched in the door way, crying, his fingers shaking as he held an epi pen over the unbroken skin of his forearm.

"Don't." Kenshin grabbed his hand, firmly but gently and the young man startled, a scream bursting from his lips. "You don't have to be like them," Kenshin said, looking into the cop's eyes. "Don't make a choice that you can't turn back from."

The epi pen clattered to the ground and the man pressed a hand to his face letting out a short harsh sob. Kenshin stepped back, satisfied that he wasn't going to do something stupid. A heavy weight started to fall over him as he looked at the room. Soaked in blood. Everything soaked in blood.

And there...in the shadows... He bought his attention back to the lean man, for the moment, until he could breathe, and looked at his hand wrapped around the knife still. And beside it...a phone. Kenshin narrowed his eyes and wondered...

No... His job wasn't done yet. He still had to find out one more thing. He flicked the blood off _Kitetsu_ and sheathed it, crouching to pick up the phone which felt strangely heavy. The young man slumped to the ground, wrapping his arms around his head.

It was disgusting.

All of this waste.

All of this blood.

He looked through the lean man's call list and found the number he was searching for.

Kenshin stared at Saitoh's number a moment longer. He had half been hoping it wouldn't be in here. (You can't escape that easily.) No. No he couldn't. Kenshin stood straight as he pressed send and listened to the phone ring, wondering if Saitoh would even answer. It was surreal, this feeling, a muddled sort of surprised. A sinking feeling that left a bitter taste in the back of his throat. Two rings. A click.

_["Battousai."] _

Saitou's voice was harsh against his ear and the name made him clench the _sakabato_. The old anger rose up in his chest and threatened to strangle him.

"Have the Shinsengumi gotten so weak that they need to use drugs to shoot an unarmed woman in the chest?" he said, his voice flat, his words hardly registering to his own ears. There was a slight pause. But only very slight. Enough for Kenshin to hear the television in the background.

_["You stole a tablet, one that you should know would be tracked...what did you expect to happen?"] _

Tracked! So that was how- That was how. He should have known and in the end. In the end it hadn't made a damn bit of difference. In the end... only...only one person...no...not one...everyone who was lying- but later. Later. There were still things that needed to be done.

"Just answer the question." If this was permissible... If all New Meiji police were...

_["Moron. You already have your answer. You saw me fight in the diner."]_

Not everyone has your honor, Kenshin wanted to say, except it pricked him somehow. Shinsengumi honor was negotiable at best. But- wait Shinsen- why was he even-? That was hundreds of years ago.

"Unfortunately I can't trust the rest of the force to share your sensibility."

_["You would be wise to be wary, it would seem."]_ There was a strange sort of breath and Kenshin could imagine him blowing the smoke from his mouth as the cigarette curled between his fingers and filled the air with his presence. As the air wasn't full enough of him. Still, that gave him his answer. It was illegal. Kenshin let out a soft breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

_["Were they all using?"] _Saitoh said.

"Aa." Kenshin glanced to the young man at the door. "Almost. They were using METAL, or something close to it. It's refined from AMP but a more aggressive strain and longer lasting."

"A greater risk of mental instability, too," he continued flatly, remembering the dilated eyes, the teeth, shooting his comrade in the face as if it was nothing. As if he had just been an irritating fly. "But the high is almost instantaneous..." And dangerous. Even more so than on the streets. The police could make this tenuous world hell.

"Get it out of your men, Saitoh. Before there's a war." And there would be war. People would only bend so far until they broke. More innocent blood splattered on the concrete. He glanced at the young man again who was looking up at him, a different kind of fear in his eyes. He knew the truth.

"I have someone here who can give you names and details," Kenshin said, meeting the young man's eyes, trying to tell him to be brave. "He chose not to take the drug, but I believe he was coerced."

_[Fine.] _

Kenshin handed the phone to the young man who hesitated.

"It's your choice," Kenshin said. The man stood, levering himself to his feet and took the phone with a shaking hand. Kenshin tried his best not to hate him as the man left back the way he had come. The phone pressed to his ear.

"He...hello...?" he said, faintly, just before Kenshin shut the door.

Suddenly he was alone in a blood soaked room. Everywhere. The lean man, headless. The mad one, in half. The other one. Paralyzed and dead now. Bled out. Dying and dead while Kenshin chatted on the phone to correct a problem that shouldn't have even existed. Saitoh's words echoed back in his head.

_You stole a tablet, one that you should know would be tracked...what did you expect to happen? _

Not this. Never this. He hadn't expected... he hadn't expected... He moved his gaze to Megumi.

One hand had fallen to rest on her stomach. The rest of her was a bloody mess, her hair spread against the wall, pale orange with the light of the space heater.

He hadn't expected her.

And she had suffered for his mistake. Who had she left behind? Who had they left behind? How many more phone calls would go unanswered? How many more faces unseen? Endless and endless. Death and blood filled the air.

Kenshin placed _Kitetsu_ against the wall and went over to her. It was strangely silent. Everything was muffled. His own breathing. His own heartbeat. He knelt beside her.

She had come to this world to live. No matter what had happened. She had come here to live. To help others. _There are too many killers in this world, Megumi-dono, and not enough doctors. _

And even fewer now.

Because of his own carelessness.

How many more will you kill before you're satisfied, _Hitokiri Battousai_?

He shifted, pressing hands and forehead against the floor.

"I'm sorry, Megumi-dono."

As if that would be enough. As if anything in this world would ever be enough.

Minutes passed. He didn't want to move. But he had to. He had no right to stay here. If he stayed he would only be captured and he couldn't allow the government to have him. They would use him. His soul or his body it made no difference. And Megumi needed someone to know about her death.

Death...

And they had just been about to eat. He could still smell the faint traces of acrid smoke. Kenshin shook his head and pushed himself upright. He would take her away from here and find some place to bury her. Then he would find anyone she had left behind and let them know...and after that... after that he wasn't sure.

Kenshin shifted closer, pressing one hand to her back to lift her away from the wall and felt...skin. Chills ran down his spine. There was a hole in the shirt, and the stickiness of blood still drying and...skin. He pressed his fingers against it. It seemed firm. How...how was that even possible? And it felt warm. Almost too warm. He rested her gently back against the wall and his heart jumped as he felt a felt a pulse, weak, but as he pressed it was growing stronger.

No one who had lost that much blood should be alive. Should have skin. The bullet must have gone through her so unless-

Recovery. Regen.

Hadn't she said they were both scientific experiments? But this- to go this far- To bring someone back from the dead and she was dead. She had to be at some point. Her chest moved, breathing, breath rattling in her lungs. He would think of the why and how of it later.

He had to get her out of here. Kenshin gently lifted her. She was heavier than expected but nothing he couldn't handle. Gently, he moved her to the comforter that was blood splattered but would have to do. He shifted her onto her side so she wouldn't choke on the blood that was threatening to come out of her.

Then he stood, hurried to the janitor's closet to grab her clothes from the clothes line before rolling them up, shoving them in his messenger bag. The tablet gleamed at him and he threw it out, hearing it clatter against the far wall. Kenshin moved quickly, taking the bottles of medicine he'd hidden at the bottom of a clothes box and shoving them in his bag, stopping to fill up one needle and making sure there was no air before jabbing it into his arm. He would need the strength and agility for who knew how long.

Once everything was in his bag, he pulled on a shirt, and his shoes. Then he shifted Megumi onto her back, using the thinner blanket to tie the comforter around her. In another second _Kitetsu_ was in its bag,and against his shoulder. Messenger bag on and swinging at his hip and Megumi... He muttered an apology and gently picked her up so she was hanging opposite _Kitetsu_ and started out the door.

He would have to take the roof exit, probably. The streets were too crowded. This in mind, Kenshin headed for the stairs and began to charge up them, faster and faster as the hit kicked in and filled him with energy. In next to no time he was out in the bright light and sharp cold of a February morning. He was- South. Next safe house was west. This way. Good jumping for a while.

He raced to the end of the roof, faster and faster, keeping in mind the extra weight, hit the edge of the roof and _pushed_ off, flying, landing solidly, slipping a little but he kept going. As soon as she was safe. As soon as she was well. Then he would think. For right now, all that mattered was to run.


	3. Will Haunt You in the End

**Megumi**

**Humpty-dumpty sat on a wall…**

She'd been four the first time it had happened. She'll fallen while running down some stairs, the type of tumble that any child will experience in the course of growing up, resulting in scuffed palms, and bleeding knees and a cut on her chin that would require stitches, lest a scar mar such a pretty face.

**Humpty-dumpty had a great fall…**

For once, her father had noticed her. She'd been so hopeful, as he carefully examined her knees and hands and touched (actually touched her!) her chin as the damage faded beneath his watchful black eyes. When he reached out to her and took her into his arms, she'd rejoiced, her tears drying, snuggling against his chest, her hands clutching the white lab coat he was wearing as he climbed up the long, winding stairs to the third floor of her home.

**All the Kings Horses…and all the Kings Men…**

She'd not known his intentions until he pulled her away from him, holding her by one arm and leaned over the balustrade, holding his white faced daughter out in front of him, his expression never deviating from that of detached scientific curiosity as he checked her relative position above the marble floor down below, adjusted his aim a little and then dropped her.

**Couldn't put Humpty together again**

Megumi opened her eyes. She was dead. Dying. Dreaming.

She blinked. She was flying, soaring above a dirty city illuminated by early morning sunlight.

There were sounds registering, a gurgling wet exhalation, as blood filled lungs tried to provide oxygen to a system that had been starved of it for several minutes. Someone else took breath, exhaled sharply, then inhaled again, the rhythm hard and fast with exertion.

Taste came next, followed shortly by the ability to smell. There was blood in her mouth, pouring from her nose. Megumi tried to swallow; the coppery taste was on her tongue and caked on her teeth, making her sick.

Blood….everywhere. She could smell it, could detect charred clothing where an energy round had blown through her sternum and out of her spine before lodging 12 inches into a concrete wall. Another scent, the smell of a man, the sweat of a friend. She knew this scent and felt strangely relieved.

Relief fled as the final sense began to emerge, as blown apart nerve inductors began to fire normally, sending and relaying signals from the brain, out to her regenerating body and then back again. Megumi shuddered, then stiffened as bones and in her chest and blown out back began to knit together, creating an audible grinding hiss deep inside her body. When the man carrying her landed, and then sprung up as if the laws of gravity meant for everyone but him, the jarring motion caused her to cry out, and then cough violently as blood, muscle and tiny bone fragments were brought up from deep in her lungs.

"Stop," she tried to say, but her mouth was full of blood. Unable to tell if she was moving faster or slower, Megumi moaned and coughed again, and then began to choke, her shuddering body convulsing with agony as full regeneration began to occur.

**Kenshin**

This was almost too much, even for the HIMURA to process. The drug was still going but his body was not. He could feel himself wearing down, muscle by muscle, it ached, he gasped for breath. He hadn't eaten enough. He hadn't slept enough. But as soon as they got there they would be safe. He grunted, as he jumped, down, thankfully, rather than across or- god, _up_. He landed, trying not to crouch, wincing at the pain in his knees and kept on running.

He could feel Megumi beginning to stir. He hadn't been attentive enough to her. They were ten, fifteen minutes away at this speed. If he could just get there. He sucked in a sharp breath and picked up his pace. Close to the roof. It would be up, a short distance, and over and if he could just-

And then Megumi said something, and began to twitch and writhe, blood burbling in her mouth that he could hear- smell. He stopped as fast as he could, skidding to the near edge of the roof. There was a fire escape just below, metal black and stark against the pale red of the building. He jumped down lightly; gently setting Megumi against the steps and ready to cushion the back of her head should she bang it into the metal.

"It will be all right, it will," he said through short panting breaths. "Do...do you need anything?" Could she even answer?

**Megumi**

Megumi opened her mouth, trying to speak, but no sound other than a wet, agonized croak came from her bloodstained lips. She shuddered, eyes widening as she felt her throat catch on fire and turned away at the last second as another round of coughing overtook her and with a groan, the blood in her lungs was expelled violently.

On her side, with her face pressing against the cold black metal of the fire escape, she coughed and coughed, watching as thick ropes of phlegm and blood hit metal, slid down and fell down…down…dissipating slightly before hitting the street far below.

She watched the blood, her blood falling, and was irrationally envious, wanting nothing more than to throw herself off the stairs and experience a similar rapid descent. There would be a second of fear, an instant of pain as her body collided with asphalt and concrete and then….peace.

Another round of coughing finally cleared her throat. She gasped as cold morning air filled lungs that were still healing, moved over nerves that were raw and exposed. She screamed raggedly, and tried to curl up into a ball on the steps as her body mindlessly tried to rebuilt itself. Chest heaving, she screamed again as she felt broken ribs reform and milky cartilage binding bone and muscle together.

"Not again," she sobbed, rolling to her stomach as her damaged spine began to re-fuse, causing her legs to twitch and jerk like a poorly used marionette, "Not again!"

She could feel air on her partially exposed back, the blood soaked t-shirt sporting an exit would that was six inches in circumference. A wave of regeneration hit, as damaged internal systems became whole and hale.

She convulsed, and rather than shaming herself more than she already had, she gripped the stair well, her bloody fingers sinking into the black mesh pattern on the landing as if it was made of silk rather than oxidized steel.  
She was on fire. What few fat reserves she still carried within her were gone, already used by her body for fuel. Voraciously hungry, her body began to consume muscle groups next. Cramping horribly, she clawed at the stairs as her thighs, calves, buttocks and back muscles writhed beneath freshly formed skin, the potential energy in the iron rich muscles turning into kinetic fuel.

Slender hands became claw-like; skin became sallow, then nearly became translucent in places as one system was cannibalized by another, thereby triggering another vicious cycle of regeneration. Megumi lost track of time, as her body, already thin and weak after nearly a week without a full meal, became emaciated, her features wraith-like rather than womanly as the process peaked, then slowly began to slow down.

Sharp, agonized shrieks turned into sobs…and then became whimpers as the pain became more bearable, while the knowledge that she'd come back again against her will, and that someone had been present to see such a horrible spectacle increased.

And then it was done.

She shuddered once, twice and then was still, save for the shaking of her shoulders as she covered her face with her bloody hands and cried.

**Kenshin**

Kenshin could only watch as Megumi thrashed and convulsed, her scream echoing off the buildings and filling the alley. He watched and winced as she snapped back to life, piece by piece. He heard the crack of the bone, saw the reshaping of her chest, her body withering like she was going to crack to dust and be swept away. She looked like an old woman. He wanted to reach out to her. To cut the pain away. To do something other than sitting here and watching her, feeling sick to his stomach as-whatever was inside her ravaged and repaired her. But he could do nothing. Not a damn thing. Except for trying to keep her from hurting yourself.

(It's not something you can kill, is it?)

He swallowed, and swallowed again as the bile rose in his throat but kept himself a solid presence, looking away just enough so he wasn't gawking at her but there in case...in case she needed something. Windows were opening down the street. People were watching. The police would be called.

A thin cold edge of fear rose up in his chest and he brushed it away. Whatever happened, he would take care of it. Fear would only eat at him and right now, Megumi needed all the help he could give. Which was pathetically little.

Finally, she shuddered and he thought for a moment she was dead but those thin hands covered her face and she was crying. Crying for the pain of it.

(This is _torture_caused by your carelessness.) He should be there, not her.

Kenshin took a deep breath and, seeing that she had settled for the moment, opened his messenger bag and pulled out a small box of protein bars and a bottle of luke warm water. There wasn't much but she needed something.

"You need to try to eat if you can," he said, opening one of the packages for her. "And drink, too. There is more food where we're going but for right now you should keep your strength up, that you should."

**Megumi**

For a minute, Megumi simply lay there, curled in a ball, her face hidden.

_You need to try to eat if you can._Megumi shook her head. The only thing she wanted to do right now was to die…and preferably stay dead. She heard a package crinkling.

_And drink, too. There is more food where we're going but for right now you should keep your strength up, that you should._

"You're not going to give up on me, are you?" she said dully, her tone suggesting that she wished he would. She moved her hands away from the twisted, torn stair railing, casually glancing at her fingers as she sat up, then turned to look over at the man who had somehow gotten her out of the storage unit.

A cadaverous face peered up at him from beneath blood matted hair. Eyes once warm were dull, despite being teary and sunken in. She looked at Kenshin. He was covered in blood, panting from exertion, and holding out a protein bar and what appeared to be water.

Feeling like an aching automaton, Megumi reached out, took the bar and shoved half of it into her mouth, ignoring the coppery taste of blood on her tongue and lips. She already felt ravenous and would for a few more hours while her body finished regenerating.

She swallowed, then took another bite, and then took the water and drank it down, gagging at the taste of blood mixing with lukewarm water. She could still feel her body shifting, repairing, but it was slow, and uncomfortable rather than agonizing. She was, much to her disappointment, going to once again, survive.

"I don't remember what happened," She said, her voice hoarse from screaming.

**Kenshin**

Such a defeated tone. Kenshin settled back on the balls of his feet, opening another one for her. She wanted to die. She wanted to escape. Whatever had happened to her had been forced upon her, he guessed.

"That I will not, Megumi-dono. In death you lose your horrors, yes, but you lose the chance for the good of life in as well." He handed the bar out to her. "And you do deserve the good in life, indeed you do, because no matter what else, you are a good woman."

He would tell her what happened, of course, but later, when she was settled. When they were safe. He heard the sound of a siren in the distance and stood, looking around, trying to see it, trying to gauge where it was coming from. There were too many sirens here. Too much trouble. They couldn't stay.

"When you are well enough we'll have to move. This place is too exposed and I think capture would be bad for the both of us."

**Megumi**

_"...you do deserve the good in life; indeed you do, because no matter what else, you are a good woman._

Megumi took the bar that was offered, and gave the man a dreadful smile, her sunken in cheeks casting deep hollows on either side of her face.

"I deserve that I have dealt out to others, Ken-san," there was no pity, no softness in her voice. "Call this what you will, whether it be penance, atonement, or kharma," Nakedly honest, she continued to speak in a raspy voice, suffering having stripped her of all pretenses, "the results are...and should be the same."

She stopped talking then, and ate the second bar, then stood up slowly, as if in a daze, "I would not have you captured for the world. The military thinks me dead and I would like it to stay that way, for as long as I can. I am ready to go, if you are."

**Kenshin**

o. That wasn't right. That was never right. He had always thought so. But it couldn't be right. He slipped an arm around her to support her as she stood and looked into her eyes, stared unflinching, so she would understand.

"Whatever hurt you may have caused, you cannot undo it by wishing pain or death upon yourself. Pain and death only begets more pain and death. In order to atone you must move beyond yourself and find what is in you that is good and worth living for. Worth fighting for. Otherwise there will be nothing for you." He spoke gently, but firmly.

He walked them back up to the roof edge so that he would have a clear jumping distance and gently tugged Megumi's arms around his neck before taking her legs. She was too tall, she was. (Or he was too short.)

"You'll have to hold on tightly. I might have to let you go for balance but I will try not to." He walked to the opposite side of the roof, bending so that her feet would not scrape the ground. Different weight. Could he adjust for it? Yes. She was lighter this time. Very much so. But still alive and that could be taken care of.

"Hold on," he said, and _pushed_ forward as fast as he could building up speed, the lip of the roof and pushing against the rail of the fire escape which bent and sent him flying forward as he intended. A roof below, landing hard and kept on running, faster and faster, until the world blurred and his heart hammered in his ears.

**Megumi**

_Pain and death only begets more pain and death. In order to atone you must move beyond yourself and find what is in you that is good and worth living for. Worth fighting for. Otherwise there will be nothing for you…_

(There is nothing for me) Megumi replied in her mind, too weary and resigned to spare the energy for an argument. She did as he bid her, wrapping her stick thin arms around him, and then rested her bloody head against the crook of his neck as he lifted her.

"I'm sorry, Ken-san," she whispered, strands of his crimson hair getting caught in her mouth. She wasn't sure if she'd been the catalyst for whatever had befallen them in the storage room, and frankly didn't care. Not now.

"Hold on," he warned her. She nodded and tightened her grip. Then he was off, the muscles in his arms and legs tensing like steel springs, as he leapt. She closed her eyes as they went into free fall, feeling gravity pulling. He landed, ran and then leaped again. And again. And again.

The city was waking up, the weak winter sun illuminating the world beneath it. Kenshin was in mid-leap, soaring like one never earthbound between tar papered rooftops and tin ledges. His heart was racing, beating out a brilliant, brutal staccato that would have killed a normal human being. She adjusted her grip on him, her arms sliding over slick, exposed, sweat covered skin.

Unbidden, she looked up at him, at his eyes fixed on an unknown horizon then moved past him to look up at the sky. It was clear, blue and infinitely high. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. Megumi sighed and closed her eyes again as they landed.

He was panting now, each inhalation and exhalation sounding torturous.  
"Kenshin. Stop," she bid him quietly as they landed on a rather nondescript roof. Megumi looked around and saw nothing, save for a rather sad looking little shack tucked away behind a faded, peeling billboard. She knew he'd argue, but she was a doctor and could tell that he was nearing terminal exhaustion.

"Please, you need to stop and rest," Megumi started to remove her arms from around his neck, determined to force the issue if needed.

**Kenshin**

She was saying something. He couldn't understand it right now. His heart was slamming in his ears, his breath scratching at his throat. His legs trembled underneath him as he slowed to a walk. The drug had evaporated, and his body twitched with the need to eat, to drink, to rest. His shoulder was on fire and his head pulsed an agonizing rhythm.

"A...almost th...there," he said between breaths. The safe house seemed so far away, even though it was only a few steps. He pushed himself forward, sweat trailing itching and cold down his face...and soon they were there. The padlock unbroken. The window also unbroken, nor had the seal inside been jarred.

"C...can you stand?" he asked, and when Megumi nodded, he set her down and fumbled with trembling cold hands for his messenger bag. Flipping it open he searched with cold clumsy fingers for the key, bracing his shoulder against the wall so he wouldn't fall over.

He found the key after a short moment and it took him a few tries to fit it into the lock because his hands were trembling too much. Finally, though, he managed and pushed open the door. It was a small safe house. But his favorite. Well insulated from the wind on one side, it was dark and warm. A nest of blankets made up the middle and the boxes were stacked around like a tiny cave. There was even a rice cooker that he'd managed to get working.

He beckoned for Megumi to go first and waited until she had done so to make a brief glance of the area before slipping inside himself. Shutting the door. Bolting it, and then sliding down it to sit on the floor, _Kitetsu_digging into his back but he didn't care.

That...had been...entirely too long of a run.

**Megumi**

Megumi peered round the little room. It was a well-stocked little nest.

Leaving Kenshin where he was crouching on the floor, she stumbled over to some bottled water. It was cool, a few degrees less than room temperature. She took several bottles in her arms and carried them over to where the man was sitting, trying to catch his breath.

"Here," she fumbled with the lid to one of the bottles, but offered it to the man, trying to help, knowing that she was responsible for his current state. "Start drinking as many of these as you can," Crouched down, she unscrewed another bottle, setting it beside the first.

"I'll…I'll start fixing something to eat," biting down on her lower lip, she hesitated, then reached over and hesitantly pushed the sweaty bangs out of her friend's eyes. He was so tired, shaking, so worn out. "You never got breakfast. I never finished it. Or did I?' She glanced down at her chest and the singed, bloody hole in the middle of it, then looked back up at her friend, "There was smoke...a light. It was red...I..I…can't remember," unaware that she was rambling; she touched his sweaty cheek with an unsteady hand. He was feverish. Hurting.

"Did you…did they…are you hurt?" she whispered raggedly, looking at the blood on his shirt, his pants, the gore in his hair…on his face.  
She groaned, and tried to wipe some off of his chin. She was shaking. So was he. There was so much blood on him. On her. They both reeked of death and dying.

"I'm sorry…" she bent her head, so embarrassed that he'd seen her like this, that she'd put him in danger after he'd been so kind. "…so sorry, Ken-san."

**Kenshin**

He shifted _Kitetsu_from his back to lay it on the floor before drinking the water she gave him. He could keep his hand steady enough for that at least. He lowered his eyes as she spoke, wary, ashamed, guilty. He had caused this too. He had broken her heart. Bent her spirit. All for one single, stupid, piece of equipment that hadn't even been worth it. (Nothing would ever be worth it)

"It was this one's fault, Megumi-dono," he said, looking into her eyes. "This one foolishly stole a police tablet which they tracked. The moment you opened the door, the lead man shot you." And here he looked away to spare her the hardening of his gaze as the old anger shuddered in him as he remembered. "Just for the pure pleasure of the kill."

But he had no right to indulge in anger right now. Or ever. He had taken more lives. He had destroyed more families. He had nearly destroyed her. He bowed to her deeply, his hands on the floor.

"This one was the cause of your pain and suffering, Megumi-dono. My carelessness was unforgivable and this one cannot apologize enough for what he's done to you."

**Megumi**

"A tablet?" Megumi asked, incredulously.

She tried to recall something, anything that would give her a desperately needed measure of context. And then she received it.

_The lead man shot you…Just for the pure pleasure of the kill…_Kenshin looked away, her expression becoming hard and predatory.

And then the knucklehead bowed, trying to apologize.

"Don't…" she plead, tugging on his sweat soaked t-shirt, trying to get him to sit up. "…please, you didn't know, I was the one who barged in," Megumi gave up on tugging and embraced him awkwardly, trying not to reopen the wound in his poor shoulder. Dazed, hurting, she simply held him, too dehydrated to even properly weep over how profoundly she'd fucked things up.

"You are my friend," in the end it was the only thing she could say. In the end, for her, it was the only thing that mattered. "and the only thing you have done is treat me with kindness and care."

Megumi paused, and pulled away a little, trying to provide Kenshin with the same context she'd been given only moments before. "I have died many times, Ken-san, and never by my own hand," she confessed, her worn out voice carrying in the little nest; the haven that he'd carried her to. "I've always awoken alone and discarded, my body cast into a ditch, or a river, or a refrigerated room on some military base. It is a very lonely experience."

She sighed and covered one of his hands with her own. Her hands were still skeletal, but the skin was no longer nearly translucent. "You didn't need to take me with you, carry me from that storage room; away from the man you said who killed for pleasure. You were here, when I woke up, and stayed by me when no one else has ever bothered."

Megumi gave his hand a shaky little squeeze. "So, get yourself into that nest you made." She motioned towards the blankets. "You're not going to be able to properly regenerate without some more water, some more food…and lots of sleep."

**Kenshin**

Her story was indescribably sad. More than he could even fathom. What kind of world was this that things like that could happen? She had wounds that he didn't even know how to touch. She couldn't even seem to value her own life. See how much it mattered that she lived instead of died-no matter how many times that she returned.

He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. What use was he if he could only kill? What use was he if he couldn't get through to her? How important she was? How good? To treat herself so lightly... Her hand touched his, giving comfort to one who did not need it. Couldn't accept it as things were now.

The weight of it pressed him down, filled his lungs. His arms trembled and he wanted to grab her shoulders and make her understand. But she would have to learn that on her own time. She would have to find her own way.

"You are _my_friend, Megumi-dono. I would have carried you anywhere," he said, trying not to sound as weary as he felt. He would let her take care of things since she wished to and she was right. He needed to regenerate before leaving again. Kenshin pulled off his shoes, setting them aside, before moving himself and katana to the blankets, wrapping a few warm ones around his shoulder and leaning against the stack of boxes that were there for that purpose.

"In any case, I'm glad you're alive," he said, managing a small smile. "I would have missed you otherwise, indeed I would."

**Megumi**

_You are my friend, Megumi-dono. I would have carried you anywhere…_

And then he said that he was glad she was alive, that she was a person who was worthy of being missed.

Megumi's wan face became radiant, despite the heavy toll that regeneration had taken upon her delicate features. Not knowing what to say, she wisely said nothing, but gave the slender man a little smile, then turned her attention to preparing the long delayed first meal of the day.

There was a little rice cooker in Ken-san's nest (this is what she was calling the little shack) into which she added proper ratios of rice and bottled water. While the rice steamed, she found some canned foot that while not hot, would provide protein to repair damaged muscles.

Eventually, the meal was ready. Shaking with exhaustion, Megumi carried it over to where Kenshin was resting, swathed in body warmed blankets. "Better late than never?" she offered him a plate as she sat down beside him.

**Kenshin**

Kenshin couldn't help but return that smile. Who could? Though she still looked tired and thin, the smile lit her face and for a moment she was stunning. Perhaps one day she would find someone to make her smile like that all the time.

He watched her prepare the meal, letting the silence fill the room. He shifted, trying to get comfortable, and realized the messenger bag was around his shoulders still. Kenshin took it off and took out Megumi's rolled clothes, placing them on a stack of boxes behind him for now. Then, on impulse, he pulled out his laptop. It was still in good condition despite being bumped around everywhere and fortunately a strong signal coming from the building below meant he could check a few things.

What to check, though? The news feeds? More bad news. More confusing questions. It had been a long hard day and even though he should think about things, he needed a distraction, if only for a moment. He set the laptop on the ground as Megumi came over and accepted the food from her with a smile.

"Ah, thank you. It smells delicious." Though he set the plate down for a moment so he could pull something up.

"Have you ever seen Variety Show? It's mostly human interest stories and comedy sketches, nothing too deep but it can be pretty funny, that it can," he said, opening the site.

"Would you like to watch with me?"

**Megumi**

Megumi nodded and scooted a little closer so she could see the screen a bit better. "I've never seen this Variety Show before," she admitted peering at the laptop, "does it also contain musical segments?" Kenshin nodded and her heart skipped a beat in anticipation.

He was right, Kenshin was, the show was pretty funny. Megumi sat beside him, eating in comfortable silence as a segment aired about a family and an adventurous, impish little boy. Megumi finished her rice, then set the plate to the side of where she was sitting, and glanced over at Kenshin. Violet eyes fixed on the screen; he was smiling as the segment played out with hugs and laughs, his expression peaceful…content….happy.

Megumi looked away after a second, but kept that smile with her…

A comedian was up next. Megumi didn't get half the jokes, and wondered what Kenshin thought about the subject matter.

The final segment was the one she'd been waiting for. It was a musical number, performed with a guitar and a piano. It was an old song, one that had been written in the twentieth century by a band from Ireland, an island that in the aftermath of the Great War, had been devastated by economic turmoil and rising water levels, sending her people and the haunting music that was its legacy scattered like seeds on the wind.

She listened carefully, closing her eyes as the first measures of music began to play.

_You say, you want diamonds on a ring of gold. You say, you want your story to remain untold…But all the promises we made…from the cradle to the grave…When all I want is you…_

Unaware, she began to sign along, quietly, her voice barely audible at first. The second verse began, and she dropped down a third of an octave, adding a sweet harmonic line to the plaintive melody. _You say, you'll give me eyes in a world of blindness, a river in a time of dryness, a harbor in the tempest…_

_But all the promises we made…from the cradle to the grave…When all I want is you…_

She sang, and was for the first time in a very long time...simply happy.

**Kenshin**

He was glad she wanted to watch with him, and even more so that she seemed excited about the musical numbers. He liked the music, too, but it wasn't his favorite part. Mostly he liked to watch the family stories. The friendship stories. The little boy causing havoc for his beleaguered parents felt all too familiar somehow and sent a faint pang through him. A kind of faint longing.

He ate dutifully as he watched the comedian, glad to hear the audience laugh even if he didn't understand most of the jokes. The comedian herself seemed like a nice person if a little perplexed by the world.

He had finished eating by the time the song began to play, from a country he'd only distantly heard of in, English he guessed. That was what they spoke in the west, wasn't it? He felt Megumi relax, watched out of the corner of his eye as her own eyes closed, her face relaxed, the corners of her mouth lifting just slightly. She was enchanted. He'd never known she liked music.

And then she began to sing, soft at first and then...doing something strange with her voice so that it matched the melody somehow, even though it seemed that it shouldn't. He listened to her sing, though he couldn't understand the words, and watched her get lost in the music as if there was nothing else existed for her.

He waited until the last faint strains of the music had faded and let the silence fill the space, like an aftertaste of a really good chocolate macchiato.

"Megumi-dono has a beautiful voice, she does," Kenshin said. Paused to cover his mouth as he yawned before shifting into a more comfortable spot. "Perhaps she will sing again someday." He would like to hear it.

**Megumi**

I like singing," she said quietly, as if she'd suddenly found something precious that she'd assumed had been lost. She felt her cheeks going pink with an odd mixture of embarrassment and pleasure at the compliment.

"But I love playing the piano most of all," She shyly confided to the red haired man sitting beside her. "Perhaps someday...I'll be able to play for you."

She sighed, allowing the beginnings of a goal...a new goal...to form in the back of her mind.

**Kenshin**

Ah, would you? This one would enjoy that very much." It was strange the unexpected talent people had. To be able to sing and play...all those white and black keys and black notes on a page. He bet she was good at it. Maybe she could do that, one day. Sing and heal people with her strong, fragile hands. Not short and boy-like, covered with calluses from a _shinai_and impossible at cooking no matter what was put before her.

Kenshin finished his meal and watched the show. Another family piece. Triplets born in northern Kyushu. A tired but happy mother. A proud father. The host was talking about it quiet tones, as if he didn't want to wake the baby.

_Running his hand over a rounded belly. A bright nervous smile, like the sun was coming out. An honest face looking up into his._

"Kenshin."

"Mm?" Kenshin wrenched his eyes open and realized Megumi hadn't spoken. The story had shifted to...something about...whales... He blinked. Once. Twice.

_And she smiled at him, the warm spring breezes moving the strands of black hair against her neck. A chime sounding somewhere. He rested his head on her shoulder, content in the breeze and the sunlight that filled him from the inside out._

**Megumi**

_Conservationists hope that within the next fifty years, whale species that were wiped out during the global conflicts of the early twenty-first century will slowly be re-introduced back into the wild. Great advances in genetic research and the resolve of men and women of science will overcome our sad history and exploitation of these majestic, gentle titans of the sea…_

Megumi watched intently as historical footage of extinct whales played out on the laptop, accompanied by hopeful and triumphant background music. It was amazing to think that the oceans had once hosted life on such a beautiful, brilliant scale. (They will return to a vastly altered sea scape…) Global warming and war had seen to that, forever altering the coasts as low lying areas sank beneath the waves, sending millions scrambling for higher ground.

The Variety Show ended.

Carefully, Megumi took the laptop from Kenshin's unresisting hands and closed out the viewing application. She looked at his desktop picture for a minute. It was a beautiful picture of a green field, animated grass rippling softly like waves, a tree, crowned in leaves that moved as the wind moved across the landscape and a sky that was perfectly blue, no clouds in sight. It was a peaceful image and Megumi wondered if there really was a place in the world that was half so pretty.

She closed the laptop and gently set it down atop one of the many boxes that surrounded the little nest of blankets, then carefully…cautiously…shifted a little to the side, so that Kenshin wasn't leaning at so awkward an angle (how does he sleep sitting up?) she wondered. He shifted a little in sleep, so that she bore a little more of his weight and the boxes a little less.

Megumi sat there for a several minutes, not wanting to do anything to wake him from the healing sleep that he do desperately needed after carrying her away from the storage room. She sat, her muscles tensing then relaxing in time with his breathing, and then shifted a little more, reaching for and finding the blanket (still warm with body heat) that had fallen from his slender shoulders. Gently, she covered him as best she was able, and after hesitating for a moment, covered herself as well. She was also nearly undone with weariness, her body entering the final stages of regeneration, and needed the restorative benefits that only came with deep sleep.

His head was warm against her shoulder, the morning sun shining through the narrow cracks in the shack, illuminating the inside of their shelter with little slits of light. He smelled of dried blood and sweat and other things, scents that whispered of great violence and bloodshed, scents that almost but not quite concealed the clean smell of his skin, coupled with the merest hint of coffee.

Megumi sighed and closed her eyes. It was so warm, so peaceful in this little place, this safe nest of Ken-san's making. She sighed again, feeling sleep come upon her and shifted one last time, so she could turn her head, just a little, and press her lips softly against his bang covered forehead before she too fell into slumber.


	4. Farewell for Now

**Kenshin**

Why was Shishou's hair always in his face? It had to be on purpose. Kenshin could think of no other reason. Even on opposite sides of the bed (not that the bed was ever very big), he ended up being tickled awake. (Which was better than being dumped out of bed awake or cold foot in the shin awake...and his master had to be aiming for that one, too because he'd always had smaller legs. (and smaller everything (it wasn't fair)

Except...it wasn't Shishou. Kenshin started to remember this as he swam to consciousness from the deep soft pool of dark. It was...a woman. Who...? Light pressed red against his eye lids and he opened them to strands of black hair, a nest of blankets, a rice cooker, boxes. His heart kicked. Was it-

No... No it was Megumi. Megumi. Kenshin carefully straightened, rubbing his neck and looking at her, peacefully asleep. Still a little thin but looking better. (He remembered the skin pulling back from her bones) Except for the hole in her shirt, he wouldn't have any clue she'd been shot. (Shattered. Her blood a crimson river on the wall) But she was alright now, she was. Though _what_ she was, was an entirely different matter altogether. He checked her pulse lightly to make sure and found it going strong and steady.

He stood to get some movement back into his legs and tucked the blanket around her shoulders. What to do now was the bigger question. She couldn't come with him. It was too dangerous. Even if she couldn't die... (and obviously _you_ can't protect her) there were worse things than death.

Well she would be safe enough here until she got her money or whatever it was she intended to do. He couldn't sense anyone around and it was unlikely the police would even look for him here. Or want to go to this neighborhood either. (Unless they were METAL crazed)

Still, it would be bad to leave while she was still asleep and she looked hungry, she did, so Kenshin set about making some dinner. Onigiri was simple enough but he had plenty of rice and at least it was filling.

**Megumi**

The sun was several minutes away from setting when Megumi stirred from beneath body warmed blankets. Waking up warm for the second time in a day was something truly to rejoice over. She sat up and looked around, fixing her gaze on Kenshin's back.

"Hi," she murmured as she rolled her shoulders, trying to work out stiff (new) muscles. She was very new to this business of waking up with someone and wasn't entirely sure if small talk was a prerequisite.

Kenshin was making rice balls. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her of the sound it had made when she hesitantly crossed the threshold of the storage unit. (Was that only last night?) She wondered as she watched his hands (they were pretty hands, too pretty almost for a man to possess) shape and squeeze rice into perfect little round masses. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Shifting in the makeshift bed, Megumi set the blanket aside, grimacing when she realized some of the blood on her skin (or hair) had come off, leaving flakes of dried copper on the bedding. She would have to wash the blanket before she slept in it again.

"How are you feeling?" she hazarded as she pulled her t-shirt into a position where the hole didn't expose more than a pale expanse of her sternum, tucked her hair behind her ears and stood up, not wanting to sit like a lump on a log (or a twitterbrained bird in a nest) while her friend prepared food. This food was also important; the carbohydrates would replenish lost body reserves of fuel, further facilitating final healing.

"Um, is there something that I can help with?" she padded over to where he was crouching and leaned over a little, watching him shape rice balls with a surprising degree of efficiency.

**Kenshin**

Kenshin heard Megumi's breathing change and knew she was awake, glad there wasn't a sharp intake of breath or anything bubbling in the lungs.

"Hi," she said, in a sort of soft, awkward way that reminded him of...of...of what exactly? Something pleasant and warm (and a small hand on the pillow). He pressed the strange mental images away and sat back for a moment to count the rice balls that he had. Five. Better make it eight, though he wasn't sure how much Megumi would eat, it was better to make too much than to make too little.

"This one is just fine, he is, thanks to you," Kenshin said lightly. "I am almost done here, but if you like you can get the water. There are a few bottles getting chilled on the window." He started to make another rice ball, giving it a nice filling of tuna before patting the heated rice around it.

"I've also hung your clothes, I have," he said. "And they are mostly dry by now, I should think."

**Megumi**

Meg nodded and walked over the window to get the water.

The sun was setting, quickly sliding down behind the jagged silhouette of the city. Mesmerized at the sight of the day dying, she put one hand hesitantly on the glass, the heat of her fingers creating ghostly rims of mist on the cold surface.

Slowly, the sun fell further past the artificial horizon, changing in hue from a blinding white-yellow, to a cooler orange, and then to a shade of red that was breathtaking, beautiful, superimposing a memory of fading light itself on the back of her optical nerves.

She leaned forward a little as if her force of will was enough to keep the night at bay, tracking the descent, her eyes widening in wonder as the life bringing light, now little more than a waning disc of red, glowing warmth, slid inexorably down, flared corona like for an instant, and then was gone, leaving the sky barren.

"It's gone," she whispered, more to herself than anyone. She'd never stopped to watch the sun set (or rise for that matter) a realization that made her wonder at the life she'd led, at the priorities she'd once held so dear.

"And the temperatures are dropping," she commented, pulling her fingers away from the frosty glass. "I will be, I think, glad when spring comes."

She lingered at the pane for a second more, then turned from it, carrying the bottles of chilled water to where Kenshin was sitting. She knelt beside him and, still feeling that she'd not been very useful in the preparation, promised herself that she'd clean up after they'd eaten this meal.

"Thank you for...washing my clothes, for the food," she motioned at the food and then perhaps at the room that they were sitting so snugly in, "for everything. I appreciate your kindness, Ken-san, more than I can say."

**Kenshin**

"It will be spring soon enough, it will," Kenshin said warmly, finishing the last one and wiping his hands on a cloth before moving to set the plate between them.  
"There are some with tuna" He pointed to the ones on the right. "And some without. This one wasn't sure which Megumi-dono preferred. And there's really no need to thank me. It was my pleasure, indeed it was."

He picked up the cold water and took a good drink before taking a rice ball between his hands. Ah, simple pleasures. For just a moment, it was perfect, with the deepening night just outside the window.

"Megumi-dono should try to get to Ueno Park, she should, in April. The cherry blossoms are beautiful even in New Meiji." Even though they were dying when they fell, it had always reminded him of a life well lived, the beautiful end to a beautiful life that would be renewed the next April and the next, so long as the trees stood.

**Megumi**

"I would like that, seeing the sakura," Megumi daringly look a rice ball with tuna fish. "I think I went to Ueno Park once..."

She concentrated on the memory, wondering if it was real or imagined. She had memories of walking beneath trees laden with softly fragrant blossoms, the sun and sky dappling amid the snow white petals. (I went with my friends. On a picnic. The trees were still young, but so beautiful...)

She bit delicately into the warm ball, inhaling as the deliciously hot rice came in contact with her tongue. (Someone was missing, that day we ate and laughed beneath the growing branches) She chewed thoughtfully (but he came back...after a long journey). She recalled walking with this person, the one who returned beneath the same trees not once, but many times.

She smiled faintly and took another bite.

"Would you ever want to go and see the blossoms with me, Ken-san?" Hesitantly she looked over at him, clutching at her half-eaten rice ball like her life depended on it. "Is that something...something that friends would do?"

**Kenshin**

"This one would love to see them with you, Megumi-dono," Kenshin said softly, watching her eat. It had been a while since someone had eaten something he had made and it felt good to watch her seem to enjoy it.

"I see a lot of friends there when I go, so I'm sure it's usual. But I would go with you even if it were not." Because that kind of thing should be enjoyed with others. He remembered it faintly. Always faintly. Always warmly. Like a child with tiny hands reaching for whatever blossom he could grasp. Laughing. An old friend returning. He finished his onigiri and picked up another.

"We should go every year, we should. Make it a tradition." A promise. _This one will live to see it and so will you._

**Megumi**

Impossibly happy, Megumi nodded brightly, awakening for the first time to the possibilities that came with having a friend.

"Traditions are good," she agreed, reaching for another ball (this time without the tuna). "They give you something wonderful to look forward to." She paused, her fingers hovering, her expression becoming soft and thoughtful.

"Are we supposed to shake on it? This tradition we have made?" She held her hand out, mirroring her actions from the night before when she offered to heal him in exchange for food and a place where she wasn't in danger of freezing over and over again. "I want to do this right, you know."

She tilted her head and looked carefully at her friend, hoping that he could see, or sense, how terribly important this was to her. "I want to do right by you, as well, Ken-san."

**Kenshin**

"Ah, there's really no need to be so formal." It was strange to see her like this, though he couldn't remember why. Why was this so strange to her? So new? Had she truly had no friends before this? (What a sad life. What a sadder choice of friends)

"But can make a promise this way," he said, reaching out to hook her pinky in his and hold it tight. "These promises are even more binding, they are. And serious." He looked into her eyes. Wanting her to hold on. Wanting her to work to thrive even though everything in the world was against her. Wanting her most of all to know she was not completely alone. If nothing else, she was never that.

**Megumi**

Eyes fixed on his, Megumi nodded seriously, as she shifted her pinky finger til it was tight against Kenshin's. His finger was calloused, strong. Hers was pale and looked as if a stiff breeze could break it.

"I promise you, that I'll find you in the spring. In Ueno Park. When the Sakura are blooming."

She paused, then added quietly. "No matter what. I'll be there. You have my word."

**Kenshin**

"I promise the same. We will meet then and always, Megumi-dono." He held her pinky a moment longer, before smiling. It was getting late, it was, and however unfortunate, there were things to do. He let his finger slip from hers and stood, moving to a row of boxes to pick up a journal he had found among the ashes. It had some spidery writing in it that he couldn't read, but most of the pages were blank.

"In the meantime." He handed the journal to her. "I have my number in here, and email address, so you can contact me anytime, that you can. And look." He moved the blankets aside to show her the trap door which lead to the steps and down into the heart of the building.

"You can get down this way, you can. You have to take the elevator. It goes down without a key but not up, I'm afraid. But you should have plenty of food here for a while at least, until you recover. And when you do leave, only go when the sun is well up. This is a dangerous neighborhood, it is, and your life is not the only thing at risk here."

**Megumi**

(He's…leaving)

Still kneeling, the rice balls and water forgotten, Megumi took the journal from Kenshin, her thin face unreadable. She looked up at him. Her chest heaved. He was falling into shadow as waning light outside was overtaken by impending darkness. She managed a nod, and drew the journal to her chest as she numbly watched him show her where a trap door waited to take her from this place, outside again.

(He's leaving)

She'd known this would happen, just not this way. "This is your home. I should be the one going away." She tried to point out, but it was hard to talk suddenly. "This wasn't part of the deal."

(He's leaving)

Her chest heaved again, as if her barely healed heart was trying to claw its way out of her body. Eyes welling up, Megumi looked down, suddenly, hiding her face in a fall of matted hair, not wanting him to see what she was feeling. Panic. Fear. The sun was slipping down. She was going to be alone again.

A sob worked its way up her throat. She covered her mouth with one shaky hand and refused to let it out. (Not alone. Not anymore) She had a friend, where before she had no one. There was a tradition to look forward to, a promise to keep. It was a start. She looked down at her pinky. She swallowed back her tears, or at least tried to and was almost successful.

Megumi wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and forced herself to stand up. "I'll keep you posted, then, on how things…." Her bottom lip trembled. She bit down on it. "...things end up. I don't have an email address yet, but that can and will be remedied." This was hard. Dear God, it was so hard.

Megumi took a step towards where he was standing. "Thank you. For being my friend, For everything," her voice cracked. She forced herself to smile and nod, as if her warm, safe world of one day was not falling apart. "I'll see you then? Come Springtime?"

**Kenshin**

She was upset, of course she was. (Like that other time) But he couldn't stay here. He would only attract unwanted attention and she would only be hurt again. He couldn't allow that. He wished he could make her understand why this had to be. He opened his mouth to explain and then closed it, wondering if she would come to the realization on her own. Her strained breathing seemed to fill the room. (All you can do is break her heart)

Maybe she did understand then, or at least, was letting him go. No matter how much it had to hurt. But she wasn't alone and she wouldn't be. He knew she wouldn't. Somehow out there, she would find herself. (_Or at least that's what you tell yourself, isn't it? Trying to justify everything, aren't you? Coward._)

Maybe he was, but he would not lure her enemies to her. He would not see her die again. He would not see her taken. He would not see her suffer. Not if he could somehow prevent it. Kenshin pulled on his hoody and smiled at her, as gently as he could.

"Aa, Springtime at the latest, but you can always call me, that you can. There will be other times to meet. This is not the last." He fixed his messenger bag across his shoulder, taking a brief glance to see if everything was in there, and then strapped _Kitetsu_ to his back.

It didn't feel right, somehow, just walking out. (Too much like that other time. Like...that other time...) Kenshin took two quick steps forward and hugged her tightly.

"It will be all right," he murmured. "That it will."

And he let her go and turned, out the door and a hit in his arm let him run, let his feet fly. He hit the edge of the roof and jumped, between street and stars, bounding off the edge of one roof before scrambling up the side of another, as fast as he could, aware of Megumi getting further and further away.

_Keep safe, Megumi-dono_ he thought, and jumped again, falling in a graceful arc until he hit the lower roof at a run.


End file.
